


When the Past Catches Up with You...

by tigerlilly



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, post—hogwarts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2004-06-25
Updated: 2006-11-11
Packaged: 2017-11-07 03:43:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/426566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigerlilly/pseuds/tigerlilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ron is confronted with his past and must decide. But will he be able to bear the consequences when his life turns upside down?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Doubts

It was a cloudy day in autumn and the rain drummed against the tiles on the roof. In Ron Weasley's house in a small town outside of London, the wind whistled through the empty rooms. A blaze crackled in the fireplace of the living room, giving the room a cosy atmosphere. In the leather armchair by the fireside sat Ron, he gazed lost in thought at the flames.

The spot by the fireplace had always been his favourite one. Already at the time in Hogwarts he relished the reassuring roar of the flames, the low crackle of burning wood and the changing colours of the fire. Here he could always relax and arrange his thoughts.

On days such as these, when the sunlight could not find it's way through the clouds and the storm whipped the rain against the windows, Ron preferred nothing more than to make himself comfortable in his favourite place. It was the perfect opportunity to do nothing at all.

Lately he sat often in his armchair. In Autumn he always found himself musing over every detail of his life, the effect of snuggling down into his favourite chair in front of the fire. Most times he sat reading a book as a way of diverting his thoughts away from his life. More often than not, even the words on the page ceased to have meaning and his thoughts would drift away again and again.

_'I shouldn't really brood so much. It serves no purpose to dwell on what cannot be. Besides, I won't find any solution.'_

Suddenly the door to the hall flew open and Ron's fiancée Hermione Granger came into the room. She crossed over to him and said "Darling, I'll go now." She sat down on the armrest of his chair.

Ron was startled and looked at her. "What?"

"I said: I'll go now. You must remember that I wanted to visit my parents over the weekend." Hermione looked a little disconcerted at the expression on his face, that, and she was pretty annoyed that Ron couldn't be persuaded to come along.

Ron thought back to the discussion they had a few days ago. He had tried to explain to her that he needed this weekend before his departure, so that he could relax. A family meeting was rather inconvenient for him at this time. Hermione was quite frantic. She was convinced that just his departure would be a good enough reason for spending the weekend together. Ron agreed with her but didn't really want to spend his free time with more people than necessary. He had suggested her spending the weekend together at home. Hermione could visit her parents the following weekend.

That had been too much for her. Hermione had begun to cry and grumble reminding him that the weekend was her parents' thirtieth wedding anniversary. In the end Hermione left to be alone in her work room while Ron stormed from the house inflamed with rage and went to the nearest pub. Both of them were very on edge in the following days, only exchanging the most necessary of words with one another. Neither Ron nor Hermione were good at giving in.

"RON! Are you listening to me at all?" Her voice tore Ron away from his thoughts. He looked at Hermione somewhat agitated. "I mean, if you want to come by eventually..."

"I don't think so. I have yet to prepare some things for Monday. Enjoy yourself and send your parents my best regards," Ron replied somewhat distractedly. Hermione's expression clouded again.

"'til Sunday evening," she said quite frigid and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, with that she apparated.

Ron sighed. He really could do with this free weekend. At the moment it wasn't working out between him and Hermione. They had been together for four years now. But recently their relationship had waned.

Ron thought of the time briefly after their graduation. Harry, Hermione and he had all gotten jobs at the Ministry.

Harry had started his Auror training, which he had completed quite recently. When his friend's workload permitted, he would sometimes play Quidditch for the Tutshill Tornados, in the British and Irish League. Thus he was away a lot and had barely any time for a restful evening with his old friends.

Ron liked to think of Harry. He was married to his sister Ginny and was to become a father soon. Ron smiled. He looked forward to becoming an uncle. Harry and Ginny had asked him and Hermione if they would like to be godparents, but they both had refused, not ready to accept such a responsibility. They both had to get their own lives under control first.

Hermione... She had been spoilt for choice after her graduation. The Ministry had offered her a job as Auror which she refused immediately. Alternatively they had offered her a job in the spell research department.

But there had still been the offer from Hogwarts. After Albus Dumbledore had become Minister of Magic, Minerva McGonagall succeeded him as headmistress. And thus the position as teacher for Transfigurations had become free. Hermione had the best qualifications for the job.

But in the end she decided in favour of the research position. She had always been eager to learn and she preferred to remain in her element. Hermione was exceptional in her occupation - the very best. In the meantime she was often snowed under with so much work that she spent less and less time at home. The offer from Hogwarts was still available and was ever more appealing to her. She constantly sought after new challenges. Professor McGonagall had still not found a worthy successor. Either the teachers did not emerge as sufficiently qualified or they left the school for other reasons.

Ron had to smile. It seemed that there was always one position at Hogwarts which appeared to be cursed. Finally they had found a teacher for "Defense Against the Dark Arts" who was staying for more than only one year. But they already had problems with another position to fill. Apparently nothing really ever changed.

Ron breathed deeply. He liked to think back to his time at Hogwarts. They had experienced a lot and many of it had not been pleasant. Nevertheless it had been memorable years- years of friendship. But now they all stood in the middle of the war and nothing of it had remained much longer. How the years had changed them all.

Ron was also often away from home recently. He had a job at the Department of Magical Transportation and because of the upcoming Quidditch World Cup in Romania he had to go abroad many times and make preparations. On Monday he would travel to Romania again, he'd be gone for a few weeks to supervise the last precautions.

But there was another reason for his presence at the World Cup. Next to his job at the Ministry he worked as a strategic adviser for the Order of the Phoenix. His abilities had often helped them to avoid assaults on the Ministry. Also he had arranged planned attacks at the Death Eater structure, which had all been met with great success. He had become an important link between the Order and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

International cooperation was also an important assignment for Ron. An international consortium for the safety of the Quidditch World Cup was being founded to which Ron belonged to. Security during the championship lay in his hands. There would be Aurors positioned at various entrances, guarding especially critical points like the accommodations for the teams and the ministries. They had assigned Ron with the task of planning the routes for transportation. He was to maintain the high level of safety at this point and catch any potential assassins before the start of the cup. The consortium had complete trust in him.

Admittedly, he enjoyed the challenge; it beat hands down his rather easy desk-job. In the last years relatively few changes had been made concerning the transportation of wizards and work was a bit boring for Ron's taste. Also the job for the Order had become less. The war seemed to have taken a break and that was quite dangerous in Ron's eyes. You never knew when the next attack was imminent and as far as he was concerned people were tending to think too fast that they were safe.

Ron didn't feel like agonising about his job. His private problems gave him enough to think about at the moment. In the meantime he was asking himself if his relationship with Hermione made sense at all anymore or if they were together only out of pure habit. They only saw each other occasionally, preferring to each go their own separate paths. When they were together, it ended with more quarrelling which only meant more frustration.

He often wished he had someone to talk with about such personal things. Since he had been with Hermione he couldn't talk to her about such things, like he had in former times. She always took things immediately to heart. However she often regarded the things no longer objectively and felt like she was being attacked.

Harry was impossible to talk too. When they saw each other at a meeting of the Order or when it has something to do with the Ministry, personal talks never quite got off the ground, sometimes not at all. Harry had very strange opinions. His relationship with his sister Ginny had quite changed him. He spent each free minute at home - which was great in view of the fact that Ginny would soon give birth to their child, but as for his friends there was barely room in his life.

Thinking of Harry and Ginny gave Ron an idea. With his sister he could in fact always talk openly. She listened to him, spoke to him straightforwardly and often she had the right words at the ready. She didn't judge him but treated him as a friend rather than a sister. And for that he was more than thankful.

With her he felt always at home, particularly after the rest of his family went somewhat to pieces. Everyone had their own lives, so the once frequent family meetings amounted only to the holidays or special occasions. Ron was still nonetheless permanently in contact with Ginny.

_'Hmmm... Perhaps I should really hook up with her again.'_

Still lost in thought he searched for the bowl with the Floo Powder.

~~~~~

The light of the full moon made his sallow face appear even paler. A black clothed figure sat under a tree next to a great lake, near a little village somewhere in the Scottish Highlands. Silvery strands of hair were tossed by a moderate breeze, concealing the view of his steel-grey eyes.

Draco Malfoy had wandered through the Scottish Highlands for some days. In the daylight he didn't dare to fly, lest he be seen. There was little protection from forests. He tried to fly further distances at nightfall, to make up for the lost ground he made in the day. However he couldn't move too fast in case he missed an important clue.

He was searching for something...

Night had fallen and he knew that it was futile to move on yet. Too many dangers lurked in the darkness. He would surely miss something if he moved on now. Draco chose to make his camp in this spot. He had found an uninhabited cave and was grateful that it was big enough to protect him from being found. The added use of a guarding spell meant nothing and nobody could seek him out there - he would be safe.

The night was too clear for spending it in a cave. The twinkle of the stars weaved its own specific magic on Draco. Therefore he decided to stay outside for a while and plan his next steps.

Until now he still hadn't found any clues and slowly he began to have doubts as to the accuracy of his father's old books. Would they lead him to his destination at all...?

_'... the black diamond...'_

He thought back to the last few months...

Because of Lucius and the Death Eaters, Draco had access to many rare and often illegal things like prohibited books. Since his graduation from Hogwarts he had become an "unofficial" member of Voldemort's followers. During the preparations for a new attack at the Ministry, he had come across a note about a strong source of power.

Draco didn't tell anyone of this and researched it further in private. He discovered that this source of power, in the form of a black diamond, could bequeath the owner very useful abilities - control on the forces of nature. Additionally it would protect its owner through a combination of these forces. An aura encircled the one who controlled the diamond.

But this was not so simple because you couldn't use the gem without giving his powers to one or more persons through an activating-spell. Despite everything, he had to find the diamond first of all. That turned out to be more difficult than he had guessed at the beginning of his journey.

He had found a sort of map, in an old book "Forgotten Legends of the Celts", which hopefully would lead him to more information.

_'The whole thing evolves into a bloody paper chase. I only hope that I don't have to stay here forever searching for it.'_

Draco wasn't planning on bringing the diamond to Voldemort or his father. He loathed the Dark Lord and his megalomaniac personality. And he wished his father dead for years. But he had found it wiser not to turn his back on them for the time being, it was his pure instinct of self preservation kicking in. Luck would have it he hadn't received the Dark Mark as yet. Instead he had pretended to be a valuable spy at the opposition. Without the Mark they couldn't foist something upon him. Voldemort had accepted his excuse offhand, particularly since Draco had many a time proven his "loyalty".

No, he wanted the diamond for himself. He wasn't attached to either side, neither to Voldemort nor to his opponents. He was mindful only of his own well-being. He wanted to know how it felt to have real power. It was that lust for dominance that propelled him onward. Thus, he could arrange his life to that what he most desired, without having to be considerate of anyone.

Draco fingered the silver snake pendant of his necklace, his thoughts wandered back into the past, to a time in which he wasn't yet confronted with the reality of the war.

Hogwarts had always provided him with a home. There he could be himself, far away from the repression by his father's rules. Summer holidays had always been torture for him and the pressures of his father's expectations grew with each passing year. He could never please him and Lucius let him know how much he had failed the Malfoy name at every opportunity. Draco sometimes dreamt about the torture he endured at the hands of his father. The physical abuse he could stand, it was Lucius' psychological games that had broken him in the end. Draco had been conditioned early on in his childhood and had promptly adapted to his fathers views.

That was a long time ago. Since then, he had purged himself of his father's poisonous parenting and strived to live on his own terms. Draco still found he craved revenge for everything Lucius had done to him; he knew his time would come.

Hogwarts had been different. There he had found what his parents couldn't give him or in the case of Narcissa hadn't been allowed to. A home, a family and the feeling of being truly of value. Everything that he couldn't get at Malfoy Manor, security, friendship, love...

All of that had been abruptly over after he had graduated. Of course, his father had expected him to step into his footprints. His fit of rage had been the worst when he found out that Draco didn't intend to take his expected place in the ranks of the Death Eaters. His work room resembled a battle ground afterwards. When Lucius finally brought him to Voldemort, Draco was all the more astonished that the Dark Lord understood his arguments better than his own father.

Draco suggested to Voldemort that he could work as a spy at the opposite side. He brought forward several arguments why it would be better not to receive the Dark Mark. The most important in his eyes was that it would be simply more believable. Regardless of how easily it might have been to hide the Mark, he knew many members of the Order of the Phoenix and the Ministry were aware of most of the camouflage spells available and would eventually uncover the Mark if he had one. Surprisingly, the Dark Lord agreed with him and accepted his suggestion. Oh, he could remember very well the facial expression on his father, rage almost jumped out of his eyes. If Voldemort himself hadn't agreed with Draco, Lucius would have probably placed many hexes upon him that he would have eventually craved death.

That is the story how Draco had begun his employment as a spy. Severus Snape had introduced him into the Order. Severus and Draco were aware of each other's role as spy and consequently the war holds the balance. They didn't betray one another, instead they respected each others role in this war. However they avoided purposely having too much contact with each other.

Draco had almost considered working as a double-spy but consistently he had decided against it. No matter how contemptuous he was of Voldemort's ideas, his feelings towards Albus Dumbledore were not much better. It seemed to him that he was the only one who understood the pros and cons of both sides of the war.

Draco took a deep breath of the clear night air.

_'This is not the right moment for thinking about the war.'_

He closed his eyes and tried to ignore these unpleasant thoughts. He needed to keep a level head if he wanted to be successful on his quest. He might become distracted and that may be the death of him, he had to be on his guard all the time. No error was allowed to happen to him at this juncture.

For a few minutes Draco sat leaning against the trunk of the tree, with his eyes closed, he tried to empty his mind. For a short period he managed to do so as well. But suddenly there were these blue eyes, blue like the ocean is deep, with a twinkle that can eclipse even the stars.

_'If he ever... No, definitely not... Now where everything had changed.'_

Draco opened his eyes and shook his head to get rid of the picture. In another time and place he would have welcomed such thoughts, but here was neither the right time nor the right place.

_'Too many memories for one night...'_

THAT was the last thing he needed - feelings. Maybe he would act on these thoughts after he had found the diamond - when everything was over.

Maybe...


	2. Memories

The first rays of sun dyed the hilly landscape with a mystic red-orange gleam.

Draco hadn't got a wink of sleep that night. The images had refused to loosen their hold over him during the night. Memories from his past - a time when he began to understand that his father wasn't always right about all things.

Everything had started to change in the middle of his sixth school year at Hogwarts. He could remember exactly how it began; he'd been standing in front of the mirror in the prefects' bathroom, gazing at his reflection which looked like his father's so much. How much he hated it...

_Draco had always savoured these rare moments when he was alone. Only then could he let his facade down and be himself without running the risk of someone reporting to his father. Though he had some "friends" in Slytherin, it didn't necessarily mean that he trusted in them blindly. He knew that his father had his eyes and ears everywhere, even when he was locked away in Azkaban._

_Draco smashed his reflection with his bare fist. Thousands of splinters spread over the washing room floor. He wasn't able to stand seeing his father in himself. Too many memories..._

_He turned on the water tap and held his head under the ice cold water. How much he wished he could just wash everything away._

_Draco held himself up on the wash basin and tried to retrieve his inner calmness. All of a sudden he felt a hand on his shoulder - warm and comforting. He turned around and saw into the questioning eyes of Ron Weasley. He had never seen such concern in anyone's eyes for him, like he had at that moment. They held no hatred, only confusion, compassion and ... warmth._

_Draco felt trapped, he was so puzzled that he couldn't find some sarcastic comment which he usually kept ready to aim at Ron if their paths ever crossed. He only winced and stared at him with panic in his eyes._

_"I... I don't... want..." Ron seemed to be kind of at a loss for words. Suddenly Draco realised that Ron had figured out what had happened here, it was written on his face. Ron turned around, wanting to run away. Draco didn't know why but he held Ron's wrist and used his body to bar him from leaving the bathroom._

_"Why?" he asked Ron, as he gazed at him only more afraid and confused._

_"Why didn't you just leave me alone?" Draco couldn't completely suppress the anger which was growing in him slowly again._

_"I..." Ron appeared to search for the right words but his voice failed him. "I just couldn't." he managed to croak._

_For several minutes they remained in silence and only the rush of the water could be heard in the room. Draco just couldn't understand how someone who had hated him profoundly could show him so much without saying one word. Finally he decided to let the matter rest and went towards the exit._

_When he passed Ron he heard him speaking with a low voice "When you..."_

_"I don't think so." Draco answered curtly and walked out of the bathroom, not once looking back at the redhead._

Draco had to smile as he thought back to the situation. Both had been fearful at that time, both timid of divulging too much of themselves to the other.

In those days he was more than confused about the recent events. Therefore he wasn't able to deal with a curious Ronald Weasley in addition. The imprisonment of his father, culminating in the loss of his previous life were enough things to cope with at one time. In a way he was glad of not being exposed directly to his father's fangs any more. But on the other hand he was also worried - he just didn't know how they would cope without father ruling his life and his mother's. All the things they once had, their prestigious place in society, it had all but vanished with father's incarceration. Now, they had the Ministry on their tail.

That wasn't to remain the only encounter between Draco and Ron. Their behaviour towards the other had changed. The biting remarks had still persisted, because somehow they both understood that they couldn't simply let their facade down in public. But the meeting in the prefects' bathroom had shown them that not everything was as it seemed to be.

They ran into the other at the lake one late night. That night they were at last on speaking terms. They hadn't spoken a lot but it was adequate for letting the barrier between them disintegrate a little.

They met more often by and by, falling into conversation. Ron eventually told him, why he hadn't simply snuck out of the prefects' bathroom that day. He always had been compassionate of others and seeing someone in such a state he just couldn't ignore it, he hadn't given a damn that it had been an enemy and not a friend. He had been curious when he had noticed that it was him, he never thought someone like Draco could be so confused and fragile. Draco was normally the one who couldn't be harmed by anything or anyone or at least that was what Ron had thought until this moment. Even after the imprisonment of Draco's father he hadn't acted any different in public then he had before.

Draco eventually told Ron about his childhood, his father's games and his "predefined future". To make him compliant, Lucius had forbidden him any contact to the outside world. The infrequent visits of his "business partners" and their families were unfortunately too rare for Draco to build friendships. Any misconduct by Draco got punished either with curses or imprisonment in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor. Actually once Lucius had made snake-ragout out of his favourite pet, a king cobra, just because he wasn't pleased by seeing Draco paying more attention to this reptile than to his words.

Ron was shocked hearing Draco's stories. He just stared at him, agitated, as if he couldn't quite trust what he was hearing. But then he was seized with the need to show Draco that his loneliness was over with. That there was someone who sympathised with his desire for companionship after being mistreated by his father his whole life. He wanted to be the one who understood him, that Draco could turn to, to comfort and to listen. Acting on this rush of emotion he simply put his arms around Draco one evening as if he wanted to protect him from his memories. At first Draco had flinched, his whole body becoming tense as he was not used to this much closeness. But finally he gave in, finding the comfort of those arms quite welcome. He had the feeling of having found someone for the first time in his life to which he didn't have to justify himself.

Somehow Ron seemed to fill a gap in him from which he hadn't known existed. For the first time since the imprisonment of his father Draco began to live again. In the past it had always been his father who had gotten across to him as to where his priorities had to be.

But Lucius wasn't present anymore to tell him what he had to do or what he could not do. Summer holidays had been hell. His mother had walked about like an empty shell. From her he couldn't expect help. Draco hadn't known what to do or to think. His father had defined how he should act, what he should say, when he went away to Azkaban, Draco's world seemed to fall apart. That was something he couldn't cope with.

With Ron new vistas seemed to open up for Draco. Slowly he began to realise that Lucius wasn't everything. He had to learn to stand on his own two feet. Because of the conversations with Ron he slowly made a start in understanding...

After awhile their little meetings at the lake had become a some what of a ritual. They talked till late into the night about what had happened during the day at Hogwarts, their future, but also about irrelevant things. A strong friendship had transformed out of their enmity of the last few years. Apparently Draco and Ron had found something in the other which had been missing so far in their lives. Draco had someone who listened to him, who spoke to him in return and who wanted to be with him on his own merits and not because of what he pretended to be or should be. Ron felt that Draco regarded and respected him for the same reasons. In Draco's eyes he was someone special and for once Ron didn't stand in someone else's shadow.

One starry night like the previous one, they took a step forward...

_"Harry's asking quite a lot of questions recently," Ron said when they met again at their favourite tree by the lake, a weeping willow with two trunks._

_"And?"_

_"He's wondering why we're not insulting each other as fiercely as in the past anymore."_

_"What have you told him?" At once Draco felt kind of strange. He didn't want this "friendship" with Ron to break up because of someone like Mister-I-Save-the World-Potter. He felt at ease with Ron being near. For any reasons he couldn't explain, he was the only one he could confide in completely._

_"I said to him that we have decided to stop this childish behaviour and that we have accepted the option of being civilised to each other after years of petty squabbling. Now, we don't have to jump at one another's throat every time we pass in the halls."_

_Draco swallowed and looked at Ron._

_"You should have seen his face. He stared at me as if Hagrid had just received the authorisation for breeding Blast-Ended Skrewts." Instantly Ron started to laugh. His laughter had always been infectious and therefore Draco couldn't help but laugh with him._

_After they had calmed down they sat side by side, leaning against the opposite trunk of their favourite tree. They did not speak a word for a long time after, each in his own thoughts._

_"My father has written to me." Draco broke the silence, instantly startling Ron. "Something's going to happen. 'Cause he's writing from Azkaban he can't say anything precisely. But it seems to be important when he's taking the risk of forwarding me a message."_

_Ron gazed at him, eyes fraught with shock. "What do you think..."_

_"I have no idea. But I know that I'm not going to like it." Draco averted his gaze, lost in thought as he stared at a few fallen leaves. "I'm afraid." His last words were nothing more than a whisper but Ron must have heard them because Draco suddenly found a hand touching his arm. Draco relaxed a little._

_"I can understand your worry - nothing good can come out of this. But I think we can do nothing but wait."_

_Draco observed that there was also fear in Ron's voice despite those comforting words. He peered at him and said "Strong words for such a fearful Gryffindor like you." He couldn't just deny himself the cynical smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth._

_Ron gave a shrug and answered with a smile. "Sometimes I'm getting frightened about myself."_

_Draco noticed the same warmth in Ron's eyes like he had when they met a few weeks ago in the prefects' bathroom. All of a sudden he was overwhelmed with the feeling of never having been so close to someone - not even his mother. And he knew that theirs was more - more than friendship..._

_Before Draco could even think about what he was about to do, he reached out for Ron's face with his hand, pulling him closer. Ron's questioning look caught his eye but it was too late now to go back. He couldn't resist this feeling._

_When their lips met Ron froze and Draco was stricken with panic. But then Ron relaxed, returning the kiss. The tension that had built since he touched Ron's lips with his finally disappeared and he wanted nothing more than to just feel - no thoughts about his father and a possible future in the Death Eater rows. All what counted in this single moment were Ron and himself..._

The high pitched scream of a falcon swooping in circles high above him startled Draco from his memories. In the meantime the sun stood completely over the horizon - a new day in his search for a clue to the black diamond whereabouts had begun.

Draco sighed. _'What would have become of us, if not...'_

He shook his head and tried to extinguish such thoughts. He had to keep a level head.

Draco went to the lake and splashed ice-cold water on his face. Now he could concentrate on his plan again. He remembered a village not far away from the lake and decided in favour of marching in that direction. With a flick of his wand he packed his belongings and set off.

~~~~~

Ron entered the little unimpressive cafe in Diagon Alley. Ginny had suggested it as their meeting point when he asked her if they could meet and talk last night. He didn't need to give her a long explanation; Ginny had noted immediately that there was something amiss in his voice. Because of her concern she agreed immediately to meet him as soon as possible. 

The cafe was in one of the back alleys, it couldn't be seen from the street directly. Ron asked himself how a shop like this could survive at all. The interior was quite gloomy, but wood panelling and plenty of niches gave it a cosy atmosphere on the whole. Candles stood everywhere on the tables 'cause there wasn't much light coming through the small windows, even on a sunny day like today.

Ron breathed deeply. Somehow he was afraid of this conversation and what may come out of it.

_'Damn... I don't even know what this mix-up means at all. How am I supposed to talk about it?'_

Retreating was out of the question by now. He had brooded the whole night, trying to give his thoughts some kind of order. Even one of his beloved bubble baths with orange-flavoured bubbles hadn't helped him to get away from it all and to simply relax. Again and again he had asked himself the same questions...

'When had it actually started to go wrong? Should this really be everything? Am I the only one noticing the changes? What does it all mean?'

And then there was yet another thought which he pushed back to his subconscious mind most of the time. But recently those memories came to the surface even more often then they ever had, confusing him only more than he already was at the moment. In spite of everything he tried to concentrate only on one problem for the time being.

Ron searched the room for Ginny finding her in one of the rear corners. She beckoned to him. The table she had chosen was more in the dark than the others and secretly he was glad about her choice of their meeting place. He didn't want to have the whole world knowing about his problems.

Ron took a seat next to Ginny at her table and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Hi, Gin. Thanks for finding some time for me."

"Ron, you are my brother! I have always time for you." She gave him one of her sunniest smiles. But before she could say something more one of the waiters came to their table.

"Is there something I can bring you?" asked the wizard who seemed no older than twenty.

"Two cappuccinos, please" Ginny answered even before Ron could get out one syllable. He stared at her a bit puzzled.

Ginny only laughed. "They're serving Muggle-drinks here, too. Hermione had shown me this drink once. It tastes really good - just try it."

They didn't have to wait long when their drinks were brought to them. Ron looked at the cup, an expression of doubt on his face before he raised the cup to his lips. After all, one taste couldn't hurt... could it? "It's ok" he answered when he saw Ginny's questioning look. "But I rather prefer a mug of hot chocolate." She shrugged, _'Typical male!'._

"So, what is it you wanted to discuss with me so urgently?" Ron nearly spat the cappuccino he was drinking over the entire table. _'She was always the outspoken one.'_

"What?" Ginny asked when she saw his reaction. "You haven't begged me to meet you here only to chat about Merlin-knows-what." She gave him one of her piercing looks. "Out with it, what's bothering you?"

"I don't know exactly where to begin..." Ron felt quite uncomfortable with this conversation, even though he knew that he had been the one to initiate it.

"Just tell me Ron, spill. The longer you leave this, the more it will drag you down." Ginny laid one of her hands on his arm and looked at him with a gentle but pleading expression.

"Hermione..." He wasn't sure how to begin. He was oblivious to his own feelings. "I don't know if our relationship is still what it once was."

"Ron, a relationship is always changing. That's normal."

"That's true, of course - but somehow it seems everything these days is going wrong."

"How? In what way do you mean?"

"We hardly see each other. And when we're together we're almost always arguing." Ron breathed deeply. "I don't even know if I still love her anymore."

Ginny gazed at him with huge eyes. "You aren't serious, are you?"

"Gin, would I be so mixed up and frustrated if I were kidding? I don't know where this whole relationship is leading."

"Have you talked to her about it?"

Suddenly Ron found it quite essential to drop his gaze to the floor. "No" he answered in a small voice. Ginny heard him just the same.

"You have to, Ron; after all she's a part of this relationship. Perhaps she feels the same and doesn't know herself what to do about this."

"I don't know. Every time we talk to each other she's on edge. I can never do anything to please her. I think it would be better for us if we went our separate ways."

"Ron," Ginny gasped. "You know that I'm always on your side, whatever happens. But please, try to talk to her about this before ending it."

They were interrupted before Ron could reply to her. None other than one of the twins sat down at their table all of a sudden.

"Hey you two, what are you doing in here?"

"George!" Ron was startled at the abrupt entrance of one of his older brothers.

Ginny seemed lost for words as well, but she tried to cover up her surprise. "Aren't we allowed to just hook up for a chat?" She gave George one of her sharp looks. "Besides, I could ask you the same."

George held up his hands in surrender, he hadn't meant to sound like he was jumping down there throats. "Never mind! I just thought it rather uncommon for you two to show up at a place like this. I had expected something brighter. As far as I'm concerned, I come here all the time for lunch. They make bloody good baguettes." He waved Ron's questioning look aside with a flick of his hand. "'Cause Fred and I have a lot to do at the moment, I decided to get us a few snacks."

Ginny was about to reply when Ron interrupted her. "It's all right, Gin. The heck with it! Perhaps he has some good advice for me?"

"What's this all about?" George peered quite puzzled from Ron to Ginny and back again.

"Ron is having problems with Hermione." Ginny answered.

"GIN!" Ron shouted much louder than he meant to. Ron looked around the cafe but none of the other customers seemed to be interested in the three siblings. He turned towards his sister again. "May I tell him myself, please?"

"Okay, okay, I just wanted to be helpful." Sulking she crossed her arms over her chest and held her tongue.

Ron recounted everything to his brother that he had also told Ginny. George kept silent until Ron had finished talking. He gave Ron an inquiring look.

"Is there someone else?"

"WHAT!" Ron and Ginny spoke at the same time, staring at George in shock.

"You spoke as if there was someone else. Otherwise, why would you talk of ending your relationship, if you haven't as yet talked to Hermione about your problems?" George replied. He sounded as if Ron's entire conversation had not surprised him at all.

Ron lowered his gaze to his hands which had been playing with the candle the whole time.

"Ron?" Ginny moved a bit nearer to her brother. "Is George right?"

"Not completely..." Ron didn't dare look even one of his siblings in the eye.

"But...?" George broached the subject again with a dubious smirk.

"Aww well, there was someone - long before Hermione. But somehow I managed to screw the whole thing up." Ron sighed. "It doesn't make any difference now. That's not the point." He didn't feel like touching on this subject. He didn't even want to admit to it to himself that he was reminiscing about this relationship often of late. He didn't need a nosey brother poking into his past.

"It has never been a real relationship between myself and Hermione since we got together. Maybe it was for Hermione, one time, but for me it was a farce to cover up the fear of being alone." Ron slowly looked up, only to be confronted by two confused siblings. "There was a time when I wanted nothing more than to be with Hermione - but that need ended long ago. All I desire now is a little bit of freedom and the chance to be by myself."

Ron paused for a moment but there was no response from either George or Ginny.

After a little while Ginny seemed to recover her power of speech. "But Ron, I thought..."

"Yeah, probably everyone thought we would be the perfect couple. However, perhaps it's just that what's bothering me. To have everybody think that we were meant to be together and no one question our differences. Why does everybody want to rule my life? Since I can think, people have always come to me with their problems, nobody ever really cared that I might also have questions about my own life. I'm tired of always being on guard, of being concerned about what other people might think of me."

Ron was silent for a moment before he added "I think it's simply the right time for me to stand on my own feet - to live my own life without having to be considerate of others."

"Ron," George was the one who spoke first. All this time he had been sitting there quietly, listening to the things his little brother had to say. Presumably he was the only one who had enough distance to comprehend the whole story. He had sufficient faith in Ron in knowing what he needed to do and he wanted to let him know that. "Regardless of what you do, you will make the right decision for you. In the end we still will be your siblings, we don't judge you." He smiled at his brother and Ron understood. "Do what you regard as right. It's your life."

"Thank you, George." Ron got up from his seat. "Gin?" He looked at his sister hoping she would say something, but she only nodded.

"Thanks, you two. Probably I just needed someone to speak to openly about it. Now I know what I have to do." He gave Ginny a goodbye kiss on her cheek and George a brotherly pat on the shoulder before he left the cafe.

"I think, he has finally stepped out of his own shadow." George's words were not really directed at anyone in particular but Ginny glanced at him, nodding her head in agreement.

"I think you're right. I only hope he doesn't jump into anything."

_...If they only knew..._


	3. Forebodings

Ron walked around for a while before he apparated back home. He had a whole lot of stuff to rethink, as he sauntered blindly through the alleys. He would stop at a shop window every now and then, his mind clearly elsewhere.

The conversation with his two siblings did him good even though he was shocked that he'd admitted anything at all to them. A few days ago it wouldn't have even crossed his mind that he could even think about breaking up with Hermione. For some reason voicing his concerns about his relationship with Hermione had loosened that knot inside of him. He'd finally been able to gasp for air and he knew with complete certainty that there was no future for him and Hermione. He didn't know where his life would lead him but he felt confident that his freedom would be a big step forward in the right direction.

Only now had it struck him that he had been so wrapped up in his own problems with Hermione, he'd forgotten that he hadn't seen George for ages. He had been so preoccupied with himself that he didn't even ask him about Fred or the shop. Ron felt disgusted with himself for being so selfish. He swore to himself that he would make an effort to spend some more time getting to know his twin brothers again, after his return from Romania.

When Ron re-entered his house he didn't know at first what to do. He still had nearly a day 'til he had to be in Romania. He didn't want to leave earlier because he hoped to speak to Hermione before he left.

_'Strange how things just fall in to place. No more than a few hours ago I was totally confused. And now I can hardly wait to get all of this mess behind me.'_

Ron decided to pack up his documents for work, climbing up the old wooden stairs to the first floor, the steps groaning under his weight because it was an ancient staircase with a past that had seen many feet travel up and down its worn steps. Ron loved just that about this house - it was old. He'd always found old houses fascinating. In his opinion they radiated something infinitely more comfortable, then a new house with all its pristine qualities and untouched cold surfaces. When he had seen this house for the first time he fell in love immediately. He just had to have this house. Hermione had pronounced him crazy for buying such an old and decrepit house, but no one could change his mind.

Ron went to his office which was directly opposite Hermione's. In contrast to hers, everything was a mess which stretched from the desk, to the shelves and even reached the floor. Ron was chaotic when it came to organisation but he always recovered everything he was searching for. He always knew where he had placed something which dumbfounded Hermione quite often. Some time ago she'd given up making him tidy up his room.

The table was overflowing with half typed letters, notes and the like. With one sweep of his arm a huge stack of papers fluttered to the floor to join the others. He side stepped around the table, careful not to trample on any papers in the process and sat down on the edge of the desk. He had a chair but he preferred sitting directly on the table using the chair as a support for his feet.

In another paper stack Ron found the documents for Romania. These included locations, names of people who should get protection, names of available Aurors as well as shift schedules. He had worked out every detail in the run-up. Theoretically nothing could go wrong anymore. But there's always the likelihood of something going awry on events like these. That's why he wanted to be prepared as much as possible for any such problems.

Ron looked around for his briefcase. He remembered vaguely having thrown it into a corner the last time he'd been in his office. Finally he found it on the floor tucked under one of the shelves; he'd have to lie flat on the floor to fish it out of there. When he pulled the briefcase out, he saw a wooden box hidden behind it, no larger than four inches in each direction.

_'It can't be...'_

Ron reached once more, grabbing at the box. When his fingers clasped around the wood, he pulled his arm out again and sat up, leaning against the shelf with his back. He observed the little box in his hands from all sides. It was made up of finest mahogany and there were inscriptions of old runes on every side. Ron remembered that they should protect the contents from external glances, especially magical ones. On the top was carved a dragon, his claw merging into the lock, as if he would watch over the contents himself.

_'I would have never thought that it would fall into my hands just now. I'd pretty much forgotten about it.'_

He remembered that he had last seen the box shortly before his graduation from Hogwarts. He had thrown it into his trunk with all his other belongings. At first he wanted to chuck it away, but for some reason he still valued it. After all it held some of his most beautiful but also most painful memories...

He stroked the lock lightly with his thumb and mumbled "Draconis excito"[1]. He was surprised that he could remember the words to unlock the box so easily after all those years.

With a soft click the claw-lock opened and the top seemed to disintegrate. Now, Ron could see inside of the box.

_'I'd forgotten how many things I'd kept.'_

The little wooden box contained a great deal of old parchments, most of them were letters and in between those lay a few pictures. Slowly Ron began to doubt if he truly wanted to dig through these mementos from his past. He still knew exactly when, where and most notably by whom he had received this box...

_It was his seventeenth birthday - a Saturday. He had been prepared to spend the day with his friends. But then he had got a message in the morning._

_'Come to the lake after dinner tonight. I have to talk to you.'_

_Even though the message was unsigned he knew precisely who had sent it. He peered at the Slytherin table and saw Draco Malfoy gazing in his direction. Ron made an effort to keep a neutral facial expression, turning towards Hermione again, who had been trying to convince him and Harry that even a birthday wasn't a reason to sneak to Hogsmeade unauthorised._

_Ron only rolled his eyes and stood up. Under the glances of a somewhat annoyed Hermione he left the Hall. He had to be alone now..._

_What did Draco want from him? They had barely talked to each other over the last couple of weeks. And when an encounter couldn't be avoided, Draco's only response was to be rude to him._

_Ron was quite confused. Since their kiss a few weeks ago Draco had changed back to his old self. Never failing to insult him wherever he went, it was as if their secret encounters had never taken place, that they had never bonded over conversation._

_None of it had been easy for Ron. What had happened at the lake that last evening had got him completely wound up. He had indeed felt at ease with Draco's closeness during those meetings but the kiss had taken him by absolute surprise. Nevertheless, he thought it had been nice. For some reason unknown to him he felt, that this was, what he wanted._

_But then something had happened he hadn't understood until today. Draco had backed off. He'd mumbled something Ron couldn't catch and ran back to the castle._

_Ron had tried several times to attract Draco's attention, wanting to speak to him. But every time he tried, he was insulted for his trouble. In the end Ron gave up and ignored Draco the best he could._

_All the more reason why he was now surprised at Draco's need to talk with him. Ron decided to not make it too easy for him. He knew Draco better now than he ever had and he would not get caught in any possible trap easily..._

_Ron spent the afternoon more or less half-heartedly with his friends in the Gryffindor common room because Hermione had threatened that she would tell Professor McGonagall about their intention to go to Hogsmeade. Ron's thoughts drifted elsewhere over and over again. Still he tried to fathom just what Draco was up to. When it was at last time for dinner he sighed and went down to the Great Hall not paying attention to a single one of his friends. They were all staring at him with uncomprehending faces._

_During dinner Harry pestered him with questions about his behaviour. Ron appeased him with an excuse, that he had been feeling very tired of late. Apparently Harry didn't believe him but asked no more questions just the same._

_Ron didn't feel like eating, his gaze wandering over to the Slytherin table again. But Draco was nowhere to be found. Ron waited a few more minutes until he left the table under the pretext that he had to write an important letter. He noticed that Hermione wanted to say something but as fast as he could he was out of the Hall, giving her no chance to speak..._

_When Ron arrived at the lake he saw Draco leaning against their tree._

_"What do you want from me, Malfoy?" Ron snarled at him with an explicit accent on Draco's family name. He definitely didn't want to make it too easy for him, whatever he wanted. He was still pretty hurt because of the ugly remarks aimed at him over the last couple of weeks. "I'm not in the mood for listening to your insults."_

_"Ron..." Draco took a step towards him. Ron raised his hand ordering him to stop. "Say, what you have to say, Malfoy, and then leave me alone." he scowled at him with narrowed eyes._

_Draco seemed confused due to Ron's angry reaction. He had thought that Ron would give him a chance. To see him changing back to their old rituals further perplexed him. "What's wrong with you? I thought we would be f... wouldn't be calling us by our family names anymore!" He was able to correct his gaffe just in time, but Ron hadn't missed it all the same._

_"What? Friends? We two? Forget it, Malfoy. I don't need someone as a friend, who's using me as a guinea pig just so they can practise the art of verbal warfare. Go find someone else to polish your skills on, I'm not available for your amusement." Ron had enough if it. His pulse had quickened and it seemed only to getting worse with every second in Draco's presence. He didn't want another clash with the blond, that's why he turned around, intending to go back to the castle again._

_"Wait..." It was nothing more than a whisper but Ron heard him just the same because suddenly Draco was next to him, holding onto his arm tightly._

_Ron turned his head and looked into a pair of steel-grey eyes, which gazed entreatingly up at him. He repressed the impulse to give in. "Let go of me!" his low growl was clearly a warning._

_Draco seemed to prefer to not listen. "But..."_

_By now Ron thought that it was enough. All of this stammering was getting on his nerves. He broke his arm free of the Slytherin and pushed Draco forcefully away from him, causing the blond to fall backwards onto the ground. "Are you deaf or just stupid? What exactly of 'Let go of me' haven't you understood?"_

_Ron notices a shift in Draco's eyes. Apparently he had hit a nerve when he had yelled at him using the exact words Draco had used against him many times. 'Serves him right.' The softness in Draco's eyes turned into hurt and at last into rage. Draco was on his feet before Ron could think of what to do next. Draco glared at him, the need to revenge this slight, evident in his eyes._

_"Is it your stubbornness coming through now? What is this strange behaviour?" shouted Draco, taking a step closer with each word. Ron was being forced to back off as the enraged boy stormed ever closer. "I'm trying to apologise for my behaviour except you refuse to hear me out and instead choose to hurl insults back at me."_

_Ron jerked to a halt, Draco advanced till he almost stood nose to nose with the redhead._

_"Apologise? YOU? For what?" Ron's voice showed a hint of derision. "That you ever met me? That you ever talked to me? Or that you didn't recognise earlier how easy it is to trifle with me and to hurt me?" In his fury he couldn't hold back the tears any longer as they ran freely down his cheeks._

_"In fact I wanted to apologise for behaving like an idiot for the last few weeks." Draco's voice was barely a whisper at this time, therefore it sounded all the more dangerous. "But you don't seem to have the slightest interest in what I have to say." Without speaking one more word Draco turned away and left._

_Ron was too puzzled by Draco's sudden confession to be able to think clearly, He realised that Draco had been for once honest with him. Racing after Draco, he laid his hand on the boys shoulder and turned him around._

_"What..." Draco didn't get around to finishing the question because Ron had forced his lips roughly onto Draco's mouth. His hands clung to Draco's robe. The Slytherin was taken aback at this sudden change of heart but eventually responded to the kiss just as fiercely._

_When they eventually parted to take a breath Draco explained to Ron, that he had run scared after their first kiss. He hadn't known what to do. This emotion he had felt was so new and unexpected. Furthermore he was quite afraid of Ron's reaction. Thus he had backed away, like he always did when things became too confusing. He hid behind a mask of nasty remarks in order that nobody would see how much he was torn inside. It didn't take him long to realise that this was the wrong way to handle these new feelings and, at last admitted to himself that it would be best if they talk things out._

_"Besides, there's something I want to give you." Draco extracted a box out of his cloak and placed it into the startled redhead's hands. "Happy birthday, Ron."_

_Ron wasn't able to say a single word. Surprised he looked from the little wooden box to Draco and back again._

_The box was beautiful with a series of intricate carvings decorating the wooden surface. Draco told him that only the ones, having fed the dragon with their blood, could open the box. He got out his wand, held Ron's finger over the top with the carved dragon and mumbled "Sanguis guttatim" [2]. A single drop of blood fell from Ron's outstretched finger down onto the top of the box; it was immediately absorbed into the wooden surface. From there Draco showed him how to open the box._

_Ron followed Draco's instructions to find something silvery lying in it. It was a necklace. The pendant was a silver snake with an emerald green eye._

_Draco lifted the necklace out of the box and placed it around Ron's neck. "I have the same. It should remind you of me, giving you my soul."_

_Ron didn't know how to respond to such a gift. He was simply overwhelmed with emotion. Just a few minutes ago they had been screaming at each other, making him fear that someone might overhear them even in the highest tower of Hogwarts. And now Draco had given him one of the most precious gifts he had ever received. He just listened to his heart for once and kissed Draco with as much tenderness he was able to put into the kiss..._

Unnoticed a single tear had been running down his cheek. Ron remembered the night as if it had been yesterday. It was the first night they had spent together...

At this thought a pleasurable shiver ran down his spine and Ron couldn't help smiling. But he tried to drive away those memories and feelings, he had suppressed for a long time.

_'Wrong time. Wrong place.'_

Ron looked through the old letters and pictures for a while. Even though the box seemed to be quite little when looking at it, it might keep a lot of secrets. At the bottom of the box he finally found it. The silvery gleam hadn't tarnished in the years that had gone by since he'd been given the pendant; the eye twinkled at him in a knowing manner.

_'Why have I found you now?'_

Ron took the necklace in his hands and examined it for a few minutes.

_'What would have happened if I hadn't destroyed everything at that time? If I'd only had a bit courage and confidence...'_

He sighed and laid the necklace back into the box. A gentle touch of his fingers at the claw was enough to close the box once again. At last Ron laid it in his bag he wanted to take it with him to Romania. He placed his work papers next to it.

Ron decided to take a sleeping potion that night. He knew he wouldn't be able to get a wink of sleep otherwise. And he would need his energy in Romania.

With this thought in his mind he went down to the ground floor, heading for the kitchen. Even when his night was peaceful, the rest of the day was more than frustrating for him. Either the thought of the upcoming dispute with Hermione got on his nerves or stormy-grey eyes haunted him, not wanting to let him go.

~~~~~

On his way to the small village Draco came past a forest, causing him to stop. He couldn't exactly describe it but something attracted his attention. He wasn't sure if he should go inside, it was just a feeling he had that told him he needed to go inside. That what he was looking for was in that direction. Although it was quite possible that he was going mad following these stupid hunches. 

Draco shook his head. _'Obviously I've been out here for far too long. My senses have begun to play tricks on me.'_

It was at that moment that he saw a pair of red glowing eyes between the dense foliage of a bush at the edge of the wood. _'Only magical beasts could have such eyes. Perhaps it really is the magical forest I've been looking for all this time.'_

Slowly, Draco took a step towards the forest, by virtue of this discovery he found that he was more wary than before. He didn't let the red eyes out of his sight, regardless of the creature they could belong to. They too didn't avert their gaze from him. Only when the creature blinked did Draco know that it really was a living being.

Before he went any further towards the edge of the forest, Draco decided it would be wiser, not to keep moving towards an unknown area, especially as he was weighted down with his belongings. Next to an oak that was standing by it self, he spotted a rock large enough to hide a person. On its shaded side he located a pit, offering sufficient space for his belongings. He conjured an Invisibility-spell over the hiding place and betook himself towards the forest again, wand pulled out at the ready.

He didn't have to search long until he found a somewhat accessible path into the forest. The entry was flanked by two old trees, which branches had intertwined over the years creating a dense forest indeed. If it wasn't for the path, he would surely have not been able to navigate his way through the crowded nest of thickly grown trees and bushes.

Draco wasn't able to see a single trunk inside the woods, it was pitch-black. He murmured "Lumos!" at the edge of the forest, before making his way into the darkness that lay ahead.

The minute he passed over the threshold, darkness overcame him. Only the dim beam of light from his wand helped to keep him oriented as to where he was, thus preventing him from panicking. When he turned around, facing the way he'd come, he noticed that he could not see the way back, no light from outside penetrated the forest borders no matter which way he looked. From inside it was impossible to work out how much time had passed, which was quite disconcerting.

Draco glowered at his surroundings. _'I'm already in here now! I might as well continue on this path and see where it leads me.'_

He tried to make out more of just where he was but the beam wouldn't light up more than a radius of seven feet. Nevertheless, red and green pairs of eyes couldn't be ignored, lurking everywhere in the shadows, watching every move he made. Oddly enough, none of these creatures came up to him. Draco breathed a sigh of relief.

Finally he directed his gaze on the barely visible path and began to follow its course.

Draco found it strange that he could hardly hear any noise in the darkness of the woods. Only the snap of a withered twig he stepped on echoed through the silence every now and then, sounding like a peal of thunder. But the otherwise supposed rustling and scampering of the inhabitants of the forest was missing. If there hadn't still been possibly thousands eyes directed at him, Draco would have thought the forest was uninhabited.

Where was this path leading to? He had already been walking for some minutes, even though it felt like hours to him. There still weren't any changes in his surroundings. Draco came across no path that separated from the main one that he was walking, nor had he noticed a clearing. The path seemed to go straight ahead forever.

Slowly Draco began to get more and more nervous as a result of his surroundings. His senses were on red alert, poised to attack at only the slightest provocation to anything remotely hostile in his path. The hair at the nape of his neck stood on end, expecting the worst.

However, just when he thought he'd go mad waiting for either something to attack him or for the path to change, the road before him took a hard turn. Admittedly, he almost hadn't noticed it because the difference could hardly be seen. The path behind him barely varied from the path that lay ahead. Only a few ferns and cobwebs at the foot of the trees on the wayside made him realise that the path's course was changing.

When Draco followed the curve he felt a cold breeze approaching him. 'Hell! Where is this wind coming from?' Draco tried to peek at the tops of the trees but he couldn't make out any motion from the leaves. Strangely everything around him was still. When he moved, the phantom wind touched his bare skin; he felt chills over his whole body at the touch. Draco murmured a warming spell and entwined his robe closely around his body, collar up to protect his neck from the chill.

To tell the truth, Draco wasn't quite sure yet, if he was on the right track. From his fathers books he only knew that there had to be a creature in one of the magic forests in Scotland which would be able to help him. Reportedly, it lived in a cave at the edge of a clearing and was not friendly towards visitors. The type of creature wasn't mentioned anywhere and that's why Draco was well prepared for anything. He'd made it a point of studying up on all the creatures he could find, he couldn't afford to be surprised.

Not long after, the path before him began to turn again. He'd lost concept of all time and place. How much further had he to go? As he followed yet another curve in the road he finally came to a clearing. He could finally see the sky again and judging from the position of the sun it couldn't be that long after noon.

Draco didn't want to risk going instantly into the clearing. It would have been too easy to for anything lurking to attack him. Thus he searched for a safe place behind the trees and began to carefully scan each section of the clearing.

The clearing in itself wasn't huge, perhaps twenty yards in diameter. It was roofed for the most part with a canopy of foliage from the trees standing around the edge, very little light penetrated through it except towards the middle where the sky opened above in all its glory. That was where the rays were piercing through, giving Draco the opportunity to see without the Lumos spell. It wasn't a bright light as such, just enough to bath the surrounding area in a murky grey.

On the other side of the clearing, opposite him, there was another passage way like the one by which he had entered the forest. But something seemed to be different. Draco couldn't define why because he was too far away from the passageway and the lighting conditions too poor to make out what was what.

Draco didn't want to chance getting any closer, not till he knew exactly what it was that was causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. It took only a few more minutes of observing that same passageway when he noticed movement from the other side. Something was going on over there.

Warily, Draco sneaked around the edge of the clearing towards the passageway, making sure he was always under the cover of the trees, anxious at the thought of being found after travelling so far. When he had nearly approached the passageway he saw a dark dressed figure stepping out from the path and into the clearing. Black hair, almost reaching the ground, fanned around the body.

Draco thought he recognised the creature from his research, but he wanted to assure himself before he did anything he would regret later. He inched a few steps closer to the unsuspecting creature.

Suddenly he heard something crack under his foot. _'Damn!'_ Due to his concentration on the creature he hadn't looked where he was walking and failed to see a large branch in his way that he had now inadvertently stepped on.

Cold sweat formed on his brow, fear prickled down his spine as he peered at the creature which had turned around to face him jerkily. He looked into a haggard greenish face with cavernous glassy eyes - it was a Banshee and she didn't seem to be very pleased about seeing him in her habitat.

While she was coming up to him, Draco tried to remember any spell which could be helpful in this situation. He knew that the scream of a Banshee could be fatal. Draco hoped he was right, when he remembered that her scream was the only dangerous element to being confronted by a Banshee. When he realised, that the Banshee was preparing herself to scream, he shouted the first spell that came to mind.

"Quietus!"

A yellow spark shot out of the tip of Draco's wand and hit the Banshee in the throat. Her eyes went wide and that alone told him that the spell must have caused something. But he wasn't sure if it had been effective in the way he had hoped.

The Banshee was beside herself with rage, her whole body shook with wrath at being attacked. When she tried to give one of her deathly screams in retaliation, there was nothing more than a hoarse croak to come out of her mouth. Draco wasn't able to hide his smirk. His suspicion had been right. Unlike the Sonorus-spell, the Quietus-spell would muffle the voice. The only thing the Banshee could do right now was to whisper.

When she understood the effect of Draco's spell she became even more enraged. But when she tried to lunge at him, Draco drove her back with a simple "Petrificus Totalus".

Now he was able to close in on her safely. The former glassy eyes of the Banshee were now glittering viciously at him. Meanwhile Draco was rather amused by her whispered curses. He admitted to himself that it wasn't really clever for him to pick an argument with a furious Banshee, but it had been his only chance to find out more about the black diamond.

"I'm not going to force you, but..." Draco's words didn't seem to reassure the Banshee.

"I'm searching for something and I hoped you could be of some help to me." He noticed the mockery in her face and thought about a way of persuading her to help him.

"Perhaps there's something I can do for you in return." Draco didn't know how he hit on the idea of offering his help to the Banshee. Now that he had offered the Banshee seemed to be very interested. Her once obvious rage at being bested by a mere human boy had lessened.

"Fine, I'm searching for the black diamond. I have heard, you could tell me, where I can find it." Draco didn't receive an answer. The Banshee had been able to whisper something to him, but apparently she was wary of his motives. So Draco decided to show her his trustworthiness. "I'm going to undo the Susurrus-spell now. Then we can have a chat."

Draco aimed at her throat with his wand, murmuring "Sonorus". The Banshee was just about to scream when Draco pressed his wand directly to her throat. "Don't even think about it, if you don't behave I'll make sure you never get your voice back."

If the gaze of a Banshee had been able to kill, Draco would have dropped dead immediately. Instead he just grinned at her smugly. "Well? Can you help me?"

"And what is it I get from you in return?" The voice of the Banshee was like the rattling of old chains, she spoke with a dangerous quiet tone.

"What could you want from me?" Draco tried to hide the unsteadiness of his words.

"I want to go home," the Banshee answered simply.

Draco stared at her confused as to her request. How could he help her to go home? He didn't know where her home was situated.

"And where is this precisely?" It seemed as if he had to squeeze the Banshee for information. "And how could I help you with it?"

"My clan lives in Ireland, but I've been cursed to remain in this forest and the spell can only be lifted by means of a dark wizard with much experience in the arts." She hesitated, scrutinising the boy before her. You have spread enough dark magic for me to believe that you hold the power to break me from this curse."

"From where should I know how to break this curse?" Draco was interested but he wanted his information first. And he knew that you couldn't really trust a Banshee offhand.

"It's an old Celtic spell. I'm the owner of a parchment with the incantation. I have tried it often myself but my magic isn't sufficient to break the curse."

"I'll help you," Draco agreed. He didn't miss the glow in the Banshee's eyes. "But only if you're giving me useful information about the black diamond. Where can I find it?"

"The black diamond..." The Banshee's eerie expression changed. "Strong powers are held within it." She fell silent again. Draco was about to give up, this creature was wasting his time. But then he heard the rattling of her voice again. "There's a dragon which isn't living where he belongs. Find him and you'll be close to solving the mystery of where the black diamond lies."

Draco looked at her sceptically. Is that everything you can tell me, surely you can tell me more?

"I can't tell you more. Now stick to your part of the bargain."

"Well, show me the parchment and we'll see what I can do for you." He hesitated for a moment, unsure she spoke the truth. "Finite Incantatum." He finally whispered, realising he must keep his side of the arrangement for he may need the services of a banshee down the road.

When the Banshee noticed the Binding-spell being taken from her she turned around wordlessly and entered the passageway on the edge of the clearing where she had come out a while ago. Draco dared to take a closer look and saw now that it was the entrance to her cave.

It didn't take long until the Banshee came out again, handing a small piece of parchment to Draco. He studied the document in his hands, identifying the hieroglyphics. Ancient scripts had always fascinated him and thus he had practised extensively in the art during his school years. That's also why he had been able to decode the books when he first became interested in the black diamond.

Without thinking Draco spoke the words. During the incantation he noticed that there was something going on in the woods around them. He could practically sense the magical energy retreating from the trees. When he had finished, the parchment glowed somewhat bluish in his hands before it dissolved into ash before his eyes.

"Seemingly you are free." He turned to the Banshee again. "But I have no idea how we'll get you back to Ireland."

"You've done enough for me. I can make the last step myself. Now clear off, before I lose my patience with you." Her eyes got that glassy expression again and Draco knew that it was time for him to go.

Without encountering any problems Draco found the way back much easier then it had been going in. Strangely enough all pairs of eyes, which had been watching him on his way into the woods, had disappeared. He assumed that they had been connected to the curse as well. But he didn't want to think about it any more. The only thing he currently felt was a fierce urge to get the hell out of the forest. He didn't want to stay any longer in this place than was truly necessary.

When he stepped out of the forest he was blinded by the bright sunlight. A pleasant shiver ran down his spine when the warmth wrapped around his body. He was glad to be out of those eternally dark woods. He felt like he could breathe again in the world dominated by the sun.

Draco went directly to the oak tree which sheltered the rock that hid his belongings from view. He leaned against the trunk of the tree and reconsidered the things which happened in the forest just a few minutes ago.

_'How, by Salazar's beard, should I find a dragon which isn't living in his natural surroundings? As if it's not hard enough to find a dragon at all...'_

In his mind Draco sifted through all known dragon species and their natural habitats.

_'That could become a never-ending search... Perhaps it's best to start with the reservations. Maybe I'll find more clues there...'_

While he thought about the next step of his journey, Draco remembered that the Quidditch World Cup would take place in Romania in the next coming weeks. There was a dragon reservation located close to where the tournament was being held, he decided combining the two would be a pleasant diversion. It had been a long time since he had been to a match. The last Quidditch match he had been a part of had been at Hogwarts as a student.

It would be a nice change of pace, the diamond could wait...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] lat. draconis - dragon / excito - wake up  
> [2] lat. sanguis - blood / guttatim - drop by drop


	4. Shift in Direction

He probably had read the crumpled parchment in his hands about thousand times and every time his rage grew stronger. _'Who is he to dare question my loyalty?'_ When you think strictly about it, Lucius was right, but Draco was angry about his father's behaviour nonetheless.

Draco had just arrived in Romania, renting a room in one of the small towns near the scene of the Quidditch World Cup. In a canyon down at the Pietrosu[1], where Transylvania and the Carpathian Mountains are merge into each other, everything was bustling with activity. All kind of preparations were made to welcome the spectators, players and personalities, which were arriving little by little. He really had been lucky to get a room in one of the more comfortable accommodations.

_'What you can call better at this place,'_ Draco taunted inwardly out of disdain. He was used by far better than a dim chamber with nothing more than the most required things. But in the meantime he already had slept in worse places as well. _'At least it's clean to some degree and I have my own bathroom.'_

Not far away from his current place to stay, beyond Cheile Bicazului[2], was the dragon reservation at the Lacul Rosu[3]. Draco couldn't understand why the International Quidditch Committee approved the World Cup to take place near so many dragons. Indeed they were guarded constantly, but one of them could always escape the keepers. And furthermore there were still some free-living ones in the mountains.

But for Draco, the short distance was more than convenient. He could attend to his favourite game next to his self-imposed duty. Admittedly he doubted that he would have much pleasure out of it when one could believe his father's words...

Lucius... His eagle owl got through to him nearly half an hour ago. Draco just sauntered through the streets to get a better picture of his neighbourhood when his father's bird flew at him in a dive. All the people around him became scared , looking at Draco with wide eyes when the animal flapped around him with loud shrieks.

That was all Draco needed to get in a worse mood. He had actually intended to act as inconspicuous as possible. After all the reputation of the Malfoy family wasn't only infamous in England and Scotland. Even in such a distant and outlying region there could always be someone recognising him, particularly with the international community these days. It would end in utter confusion when he would be suspected of being up to something. _'As if I'm like my father!'_ Draco would definitely have to explain a lot of things, but he didn't feel up to that at this moment. The Ministry would surely want to know why he, the son of Voldemort's right hand, was at the World Cup. Without much doubt they would perceive him as a precursor to explore the circumstances. Draco shook his head. _'Just ridiculous. But it's simply not the time to disclose my role in this war.'_

Thus he grabbed the bird at his claws and aimed straight for his quarter. The keeper mumbled some incomprehensible words when he saw the bird of prey still flapping his wings but left Draco alone otherwise. When he arrived at his room he took the letter from the owl's leg, and put him at the ledge of the open window. At last he had some privacy and peace to read his father's message. _'Goony bird!'_ Draco thought with a frown towards the animal before he turned to the document.

In the main the message indicated his father's disappointment about Draco not sending a single note for so many days. That Draco should make himself aware of his liability.

Draco only snorted at the words. _'As if he knows what it means to be a spy.'_

He took a piece of parchment out of the drawer from the desk standing in his room and began to write a message for his father.

_Father,_

_I'd prefer if you stop contacting me. An owl from you is not much helpful at my work. Your 'fatherly' care isn't really appropriate.  
Perhaps you should simply follow His opinion and have some faith in me.  
Maybe I'll come to watch your little 'display of fireworks'. Otherwise our contact should be as minimal as possible._

_Draco_

He knew that his father would fume once again when he had gotten Draco's answer, but meanwhile, he didn't give a damn about it. Lucius had to learn that his son was able to stand on his own feet, and that he wasn't standing in his shadow anymore. Lucius had no right to push him around. Voldemort had accepted his conditions. Why couldn't his father?

Soon enough he wouldn't have to be concerned with such matters. He was that near to his target... When he'd just have the black diamond, he would show his father how much he hated him. He and his Death Eaters were nothing more than boot lickers of a wanna-be-almighty.

Draco had to breathe deeply several times until he had somewhat calmed down inwardly. He hadn't noticed his right hand tightening into a fist, his fingernails breaking the skin of his palm. A single drop of blood fell on the wooden floor of his chamber.

His father always managed to break Draco's shell and to rummage his innermost self. Draco always realised how easy this was for Lucius when he woke up drenched in sweat late at night because he couldn't get rid of the memories from his past. Every single word from his father was like a sharp-edged knife, trying to destroy Draco's carefully constructed shell again. It was finally about time for everything to come to an end. The last step to his full freedom was perhaps only a broom's throw away, and he wasted his valuable time with thoughts about his producer.

Draco skimmed over the words just once and rolled up the parchment. His father's eagle owl had been waiting. Apparently, Lucius expected his reaction immediately. The corner of Draco's mouth twitched out of amusement when he thought about sending the letter later, only to annoy his father just a bit more. But in the end he decided against it since a delay didn't fit with his plan. He wanted to visit the reservation just before the first game of the World Cup to gather information. That could give him an important advantage.

He tied the scroll to the owl's leg and watched as he slowly disappeared into the cover of clouds. Draco was glad his father's bird waited, thus he didn't have to launch his own grey falcon. He would need him for more urgent things than sending an unimportant message to his father.

As if he had known that Draco had been thinking of him, Alrakis[4] showed up between some formations of crags. He drew nearer with extreme speed, only to slow down sharply, landing gently on Draco's outstretched arm. In his beak, he had a lizard he obviously had chosen as a snack. Draco stroked the soft plumage of his falcon, and sat him down on a wooden bar near the entrance door to his room. Alrakis began to tear his prey apart in bits and pieces, and Draco decided to rather leave him alone during this procedure. He had to take care of a few things anyway...

~~~~~

It was already late morning when Ron was able to argue himself into getting out of bed. He was already awake for some time, but he had let his mind drift away, and sifted through every point for the Quidditch World Cup once again. Though he was prepared quite well, he got a bit nervous because of the responsibility and the confidence being put on him. 

In addition he wished the forthcoming conversation with Hermione to be already over. He really wasn't keen on long discussions, but he knew that it would result in one. Every time he thought of it his stomach clenched and he felt sick.

Somehow, all of his thoughts seemed to have a negative effect at present, thus Ron tried to empty his mind of unpleasant thoughts, and to find some relaxation for a few more minutes. After all, that was something he wouldn't be able to do many times in the next weeks.

Ron fell asleep again, and when he awoke, it was long after eleven. Ron looked quite startled at his clock. _'When was it Hermione wanted to be here? At twelve?'_ With a loud groan Ron fell back into his mattress again. His peace was over. He gave himself an inner hitch and shuffled in the bath's direction...

When Ron went to the kitchen over half an hour later to make himself breakfast, he didn't notice the person sitting on one of the chairs, watching him.

With shock, he let the cup of coffee fall onto the floor when he finally turned around.

"Hermione!" Ron screamed. "By the Founders, why do you have to scare me like that?" With much swearing, he searched for his wand until he remembered that he had put it down onto the small table in the bedroom. Frustrated he snatched up a cloth, beginning to wipe up the slopped coffee and to collect the shards from the ground.

But Hermione didn't answer. When he looked up from the floor again, Ron noticed her looking quite pale. "Something happened?" Now he was a bit worried.

"It... they showed it at the Muggle news. An... explosion... in one of the outskirts of Paris. They think it was a damaged gas pipe, as the newscaster said... But when I saw the pictures... I knew right away... that it had to be the Death Eaters' handiwork..." The whole time she spoke with low voice and looked out of the window, at the trees, which lost slowly but steady their leaves. "I know the place... I was there for half a year after Hogwarts, to relax and to see something other than... Do you remember?" When she saw Ron nodding she went on. "Muggles and wizards are living there together... They have come to an agreement there, tolerating each other..."

"What happened?" Ron asked. Normally attacks from the Death Eater were a part of their daily work. It was nothing new, even though it had quieted for a while. He couldn't think of any reason why Hermione was so stirred up.

"They have blown up the school, Ron!" Hermione had been gotten up, yelling at him. "The SCHOOL! Nearly every kid was there!" Tears were running over her face in sheets.

Ron didn't know what to say. On one hand he was shocked about the news. Otherwise, they were at war. But for him, Hermione's explanations held another important message. It was beginning again! Lasting for weeks there was nearly nothing going on at both sides and now this sudden attack. What did this mean in terms of the World Cup? Inwardly, Ron began to change the plans for the sentinels to forestall a potential attack because of insider information. Automatically he had fallen into his strategy mode.

Hermione noticed his pensive features and got suspicious. "Have you listened to me at all?" she shrieked.

Ron startled out of his thoughts, gazing at her with wide eyes. "Of course I listened to you."

"Then tell me please why you have put on this look as if you're far away with your thoughts." Her voice had received a dangerous undertone she's got always when something was inconvenient for her. "I know you, Ronald Weasley, just spit it out!"

"I..." Ron knew the glance in Hermione's eyes. Far too often he had seen it recently, and every time they were arguing. "I only thought about the consequences for the World Cup." Ron swallowed. He knew that this subject could put Hermione into rage.

"WHAT? I'm telling you about a horrible attack at dozens of children and you're thinking about Quidditch? That's simply unbelievable. You're such a insensitive person, I just can't get it."

That did it for Ron. He was accustomed to many things from Hermione but at some point he was at the end of his tether as well. "Can you get down from your high horse again? I have no idea what's qualifying you as Miss Tactful, but now you're going too far. After all, I'm in charge of safety for the Cup in Romania."

"You and your blasted World Cup! Everything centres only around this for weeks. There are other things in life, too, Ron!"

"And that's coming from the one being scarcely at home, wanting nothing more than working thirty-six hours a day." The despising sound in Ron's voice could not be missed and Hermione's eyes showed how much he had hit her.

"That's not fair," she whispered. "You know how I get wound up in challenges. I just can't refuse or ignore a task entrusted to me."

"But I have to? What the heck are you thinking? That I'm doing this for my own enjoyment? I have my place and my duties, too, Hermione, not only you." Hermione's guilty gaze showed him that he was right. "I just can't believe it." He let himself drop onto one of the chairs, tearing at his hair.

"I'm sorry," Hermione mumbled. "I hadn't thought, that..."

"Correct," Ron cut in. "You're always thinking only about yourself. Anything else doesn't matter and is beneath you, coming much later." Ron breathed deeply. _'Now or never!'_

"But do you know, Hermione? I'm not keen on your games anymore. Your everlasting nagging is such a pain in my neck, I can't stand it any longer."

Slowly Hermione seemed to realise what Ron wanted to tell her. With wide, scared eyes she looked at him. "What...?"

"You got it right. When I'm back from Romania, you're gone." Ron realised that it did him good to vocalise his feelings towards Hermione. His pulse seemed to be slowed down again, breathing deeply he went on much calmer. "Hermione, didn't you notice that it's not working anymore between us? The whole last weeks we're only fighting. That's not really a relationship!"

"But..." She blinked quite nervous towards Ron and tried to arrange the words she just heard in her mind. "But... I thought... Why?"

"We simply drifted apart, Hermione. It wasn't easy for me to accept it, but it's no good to continue as hitherto."

Slowly and subtly Hermione nodded. "Perhaps you're right. Of course I noticed it, too. But somehow I still had hope for it to be set right." A deep-drawn sigh escaped her lips and Ron was able to see an idea rushing into her mind. Her questioning glance seemed to pierce him. "Or is there something you're hiding from me?"

Ron seemed like thunderstruck. _'It can't be that she knows something. It's far too long ago.'_

"How... How did you get that thought?" He tried desperately to hide his sudden uncertainty. "I told you everything concerning us." _'At least it's not a lie...'_

Ron had to swallow when he saw Hermione's gaze, telling him that she didn't believe his words. "It would be nice if you were at least honest to me."

His thoughts rushed through his mind. _'Could it be that she really thinks I have cheated on her? That I could be capable of this?'_ Ron tried to stay calm. Why did she always have to blame him for everything? Why wasn't she able to acknowledge her own faults just once?

"I think it's better for you to go now."

"But you said..." Hermione was confused by the sudden change of mind.

"And now I changed my mind. Grab your things and go before I do or say something I could regret later." Ron passed her on his way out of the kitchen. His appetite was gone, and on an empty stomach, he wasn't good company.

"Tonight you're gone," were the last words Hermione heard from him before the front door slammed.

Ron went for a short walk to the park two blocks away. There he sat down on one of the benches, enjoying the clear autumn air. In the meantime his affection had soothed a bit.

_'Why is she always putting me in a rage?'_

He didn't mean to be this rude to Hermione. He wanted to speak to her without a ruffle over everything, giving her actually a few days to search for a new flat. But this time she once again had managed to make him lose his control. She knew very well how to set his nerves on edge. Even if it wasn't intended.

But this assumption was simply too much. After all, he wasn't the one...

_'STOP! That's forgotten long ago. Calm down and focus on your upcoming duty.'_

Ron decided to distract his thoughts for a little while, spending the afternoon in Muggle-London. There were always many wonderful things to see and his mood would surely lighten up there. Perhaps he would just go to the movies. Over the years, Ron had discovered and taken to this form of Muggle entertainment.

Ron took a deep breath, got up from his seat, and apparated into one of the side alleys near Piccadilly Circus.

~~~~~

The screeching and growling could be heard miles away, but only now Draco was able to catch the source. The dragon reservation was well protected, and his only way to see what's going on there was through the trees behind which he was hiding.

The way through Cheile Bicazului was easier than he had expected. Draco had to avoid getting hit by some falling rocks, but apart from that his flight had passed without incident. When he had arrived at Lacul Rosu he didn't knew at all where he had to search for the reservation, but then he noticed a slight uproar at the opposite waterside.

If there hadn't been several shouts, Draco probably wouldn't have paid attention. But when he looked closely he saw the trees moving somehow unnatural. It almost seemed as if they would have been thrilled. Just as the blond was wondering about what's going on, a Romanian Longhorn appeared. Directly behind him were a few tens of wizards, making desperate efforts to get the dragon under control. Apparently they had hoped to encircle him by driving him towards the lake.

But the dragon tried to hit everything with his tail fiercely, making it impossible for the wizards to draw near. Any chance of calming the dragon down, either with bait or sedation charms, and getting him peaceful to the camp were gone. At last stupefying the dragon remained seemingly as their last chance. A loud "Stupefy!", spoken at the same time, let the colossus fall down, shaking the ground within a distance of a mile.

Draco decided to follow the wizards on the quiet. He hoped they would lead him directly to their camp. There he would probably come to know more about things being helpful to him.

The wizards had led him straight to the reservation. Indeed this was guarded by many protection charms, letting only authorised people into the camp. That way the dragons weren't able to escape in addition. Consequently, Draco remained hiding outside the barriers, waiting for something to happen.

Chance brought it about that he noticed something after a while attracting his attention. Between the buildings, Draco suddenly saw something he hadn't seen for a long time. Red hair, so bright that he would have been able to make it out in every crowd at once, directed his gaze towards a figure standing in the penumbra.

_'It can't be. It can't be him. What would he want at this place?'_

But then Draco remembered Ron telling him about one of his brother who's a dragon keeper in this reservation. And because all Weasleys were well known for their red hair they could easily be taken for one of their siblings when they were seen from a distance and in the dark, like Draco did.

The person stepped out of the shadow and Draco noticed that he was right. It wasn't Ron.

He had held his breath with shock, but now he became aware of the lack of oxygen. Draco exhaled loudly and absorbed fresh air into his lungs again. _'What was his name? Charlie?'_

Draco just considered if it would be a good idea to ask Ron's brother straightforward if he knew something about a dragon out of the common for this part of the country when another shout banished his thoughts. His gaze followed the unwelcome interruption, and he recognised a little wizard, running in a hectic way towards the camp entrance.

"Charlie! An accident! Charlie!"

Draco watched how Ron's brother ran towards the wizard when he heard his name. Only a few feet away from him they came to a halt, so that Draco could listen to their conversation.

"What's going on Barney? What had happened?"

"Down in the canyon..." The man's breath came out in short and heavy waves as if he had sprinted several miles. "At the bottom of... Eddie... cave... fire..."

Charlie laid a hand on the shoulder of the man he was topping about two heads at least. "Barney, calm down. Breathe deeply. I don't understand. Which cave do you mean?"

All at once everything blustered out of Barney as if someone had pulled out a plug. "Eddie and me... we had been controlling the alert charms... when suddenly stones of the walls loosened... He, he couldn't hold his ground... fell a few feet down into a cleft... he was still alive, when I flew away to look for help..."

"BARNEY! WHERE?" Charlie's voice held an unignorable hint of concern.

Panic rose in the eyes of the little wizard. "The cave in the Dragon Well..."

When Charlie heard where the accident had taken place he looked stony. "The Opaleye..."

Draco watched Barney nodding in acknowledgement but he couldn't really follow the said information. _'Opaleye?'_

"Damn! We have to get Eddie out of there. Call together the rescue team, Barney. I'll fly ahead." Charlie seemed to have picked up courage; while he gave orders to the other wizard, he ran towards a shack, coming back with a broom. "We have to set the Opaleye at rest. While she's staying in the well it's too dangerous, but during breeding time we're not able to bring her off."

And just then Charlie had disappeared between the huge firs around the camp. The little wizard ran to and fro in desperation, calling for various people who seemed to be on the rescue team.

While Draco was watching the hecticness inside the reservation he began slowly to understand what he just had listened to.

_'Opaleye! Of course! The Antipodean Opaleye... Why didn't I think of that right away...?'_

Draco saw that a little group of six wizards had trooped together and he decided to follow them at a safe distance. He just had to know where this dragon well was...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Mountain in Romania  
> [2] Canyon in Romania, Carpathian Mountains  
> [3] Lake in Romania  
> [4] µ Dra, star in the constellation Dragon


	5. Uncertainty

Thick waft of mist densified around the formations of crags in the Carpathian Mountains. By this time, the temperature had been falling rapidly and Ron pulled his cloak closer around his body. Small cloudlets came out of his mouth when he swore to himself silently, trying to warm his hands by rubbing them together. He had spoken a warming spell but it only took effect on his clothes and the pockets in his cloak weren't deep enough to give his hands the needed warmth.

It was late evening and tomorrow the Quidditch World Cup would begin...

Ron had been coming home again quite late and Hermione had been gone, just like he had expected. Most of her things were still at their places but a note on a little piece of parchment, fixed directly to the front door, said that she would come round in a few days to get the remaining things. He shouldn't worry - when he would be back from Romania, everything would be gone.

Since Ron hadn't seen the necessity to stay in England, he got his already packed things from the bedroom and opened the drawer where he had saved a Portkey, a tiny wooden figure shaped like a bat. _'Typical Romanians - still proud of their vampires.'_ Amused, Ron shook his head and grabbed at the piece...

When he regained consciousness in a dark alley, there was a dull feeling in his stomach. He didn't like Portkeys in particular, every time he felt terribly dizzy. But momentarily it was the best and speediest alternative to travel between his home and the venue of the championship. The distance was too far to apparate; the stopovers would only slow him down unnecessarily.

He leaned against the wall shortly and had a closer look at his surroundings. He saw a sign at the house towards the main street, which had the words "La Liliac"[1] on it. He had arrived exactly where the Romanian Chief of Security had set up an accommodation for him. He had got the Portkey from him, too.

Razvan Draghincescu was his contact person in Romania. With him he had developed the security plan for the World Cup. Because he and his team of local Aurors had been working together with Ron and his colleagues for months already, they didn't have problems with the communication anymore. Right in the early morning of the next day they would meet in the security centre at the stadium to sift through the last corrections and send everyone to their positions.

But now Ron only wanted a warm place near the fireside, a Butterbeer and a good talk with his brother Charlie, whose invitation for dinner he had received just a few minutes ago via owl.

Charlie wanted to pick him up at the outskirts of town and Ron didn't feel like staying at his quarters the whole time. Which was just as well, he could go for a walk, enjoying the evening. But he didn't think about the fact that it got colder much faster up here in the mountains than in the plain land around London. As a result he stood in a windless corner, slightly trembling when Charlie arrived a few minutes later.

"Hey Char'," Ron called and took a step forward.

Charlie turned around towards the voice and watched Ron stepping out of the shadows. A smile could be seen on his lips; it felt so good to see his brother again. Charlie strode towards Ron and hugged him.

"Ron! How long has it been since we last saw each other?"

"Far too long. It's really a pity that we only meet when a Quidditch Cup takes place here."

He loosened himself from his brother's embrace and took a step backwards to look him in the eyes. "I'm awfully happy to see you again, Charlie. But let's go somewhere more comfortable. I don't fancy freezing."

Charlie burst out laughing. "You're absolutely right. There's a small pub nearby where I spend time in once in a while. Really snug." He got at Ron's side and put an arm around his shoulders. "Come along, it's not far away."

Two streets further, Charlie directed him towards a tavern named "Cavitate de Dragon"[2]. Ron had to smirk inevitably. "I ought to have known it."

"What?" Charlie looked at him, quite puzzled when they darkened the door.

"That a pub with this name is among your whereabouts."

Now it was Charlie who had to grin. "I didn't know that you knew Romanian." He had to admit to himself that he was quite impressed by his brother. He hadn't thought that Ron would be interested in foreign languages.

"Well, I understand it a little. After all, I have to be able to communicate with my colleagues here."

Charlie searched the small room and pointed at a table near the fireplace, which seemed to be the only source of light. "Let's take the table right there in the back. Then we can talk in peace."

While they were walking past the bar towards the fireplace, Ron took a quick look around. The room was quite small for a tavern, the number of tables could be counted with two hands. The furniture was mostly made of dark wood, giving the room a gloomy ambience. The low ceiling gave a restricting impression and the publican behind the bar didn't appear to be very friendly either. But it seemed as if Charlie knew him well because he raised his hand to greet him and ordered something to drink.

They sat down at the table next to the fireplace and enjoyed the warmth coming from it for a few minutes. After the publican brought them their drinks, Ron disturbed the silence existing between them.

"And? How are your dragons?"

"What? Ah, the dragons. Everything's as ok as it can be - except for an incubating female Opaleye; she's lost her way somehow. Don't know what affected her to make her come here. Anyway, she's quite aggressive, making the work nearby difficult. Apart from that, we're pretty busy at the moment with checking the security systems, so that none of them can escape."

"Wouldn't be appropriate if a Longhorn spiked the Quaffel," Ron joked and Charlie couldn't refrain from smiling at the thought.

"But now you're telling me something, Ron. How are you? What about Hermione?"

Ron's facial expression got severe in an instant. "Just let us talk about something different. That's a topic I really have concerned myself with enough."

"But what's wrong?" Charlie didn't like the tone of Ron's voice at all.

"Yesterday we broke up at odds." When Ron saw Charlie's worried expression he added "Don't ask. It was really bad. All I need now is space and a bit of distraction."

He couldn't deny himself a deep sigh and decided to change the subject. "Anyway, you're going to go to one of the games, aren't you?"

Charlie was a little taken by surprise by the news and the fast change of topic but he didn't want to press his brother anymore. "Sure, I just can't ignore an event like this, taking place right outside my door. You know how much I love Quidditch."

In the meantime the publican came to them at the table. Given that Ron didn't know the common food in this country, in spite of his occasionally stops in Romania, Charlie ordered something for him, too.

They talked about Quidditch and dragons until they were finished eating, when Charlie moved on to the Order. "And what about the hunt for Death Eaters?"

Ron's face had relaxed during their conversation, but now his features got dark again. "It's rather quiet of late. But now it seems like they're operating again. There was a school in France attacked."

Charlie looked at him, horror-stricken, but Ron didn't give him the time to handle this piece of news. "I fear that we have to count on an attack at the World Cup. I spent the last hours reworking the plans."

"But that would be terrible. So many people are coming together these days. Apart from the civilians, they would be able to snuff out a bigger part of the most important members of the magical world's population."

Ron only nodded. After a short break, he added "You'd think the Order gets more information now regarding adverse activities with double the number of spies, but apparently that's not the case." He couldn't deny himself a despising snort.

"Double the number of spies?" Charlie looked at him quite puzzled. "Have I missed out on something? I thought Severus Snape would be the only one. Do you have a whole gaggle infiltrating the Death Eaters now?"

"Not a gaggle." Ron had to laugh involuntary, for some reason the idea of a horde of frantic trolls rushed into his mind. "Besides Snape, we have another one of the Death Eaters, allegedly providing us with information."

"What do you mean by 'allegedly'?"

"I don't know if I should trust it all. I have no idea who this second person is. Actually, nobody knows. Only Snape, Dumbledore and Remus know him." Ron thought to recognise a twinkle in Charlie's eyes, but he brushed this thought aside quickly. "He doesn't come to any of the meetings and is the most treasured secret of the three. Any kind of communication only takes place with one of them. And the rest of us don't learn the slightest about him at all."

"That doesn't sound like it's inspiring confidence at all."

"Especially not when there's an attack taking place after a long time and we aren't warned in the slightest."

"Seems as if we have to be exceedingly on guard the next few weeks," Charlie returned with a gloomy face.

Their conversation still centred around the Order for a while until they got back to some more pleasant subjects. Ron relaxed again and was glad to give his thoughts a little distraction. It was good to see Charlie again and to hear something about what was going on in the more outlying regions of Europe. After all, the World Cup was the only thing he was engaged in recently.

When the publican finally pointed out that it was time to close, they ended their talk and left the pub towards the city centre, where Ron's accommodation was situated.

"Hey, I hope we're going to meet up a few more times during your stay," Charlie said when they approached the lights of the city.

"Sure, it would be nice if we could do that again."

"Okay, I'll send you an owl as soon as I know when I can come to the matches." He gave Ron a pat on the back. "See you soon."

"Bye, Charlie," Ron answered. He gazed after his brother until he had disappeared behind a corner of a building.

A few minutes later, Ron came to the place where the small but high building stood, in which he would spend the next nights. Nearly every light had already been put out. Silently, Ron entered the house and climbed the stairs up to the corridor, where his room was. Every few feet rested a torch being hung to the walls, letting the floors appear in an obscure light.

Ron went to his room, not worrying about setting a candle on his table alight. There was enough light from the street lamps outside getting through the window to make out the outlines of his chamber.

All of a sudden he was terribly tired and simply slumped onto his bed, not caring that he was still fully clothed. But instead of falling asleep immediately, his thoughts moved back to the events of the past day. He hoped, imploringly, that he was wrong...

~~~~~

It was early morning and Draco had still a few hours of spare time until the first match of the World Cup would begin. Given that there wasn't enough time to attend the following steps regarding the black diamond, he decided to go to the Quidditch stadium to simply savour the atmosphere. After all, his father had never allowed him in the past to mingle with the "ordinary" people on such occasions and to enjoy the simple pleasures. Even at the last World Cup, when he had already come of age and was a fully-trained wizard, he had had no other choice than to submit to his father's orders. That had meant Apparating to one of the VIP entrances as quickly as possible and taking oneself directly to the places in the VIP-box. 

The distraction would do him good, mainly because his head seemed to spin due to the fact that he had mulled over his new gained findings the whole night.

He had followed the small group of wizards to the dragon well and had watched from a safe distance how they fetched their unconscious colleague out of a crevice. Charlie and his companions had had visible problems during this task because scarlet flames darted from a cave near the cleft, confirmed by a growl which curdled Draco's blood.

Once in a while Draco could catch a glimpse of the dragon whose pearly scales reflected the sunlight. Since the dragon didn't come out of the cave, Draco wasn't even able to guess how huge the dragon was.

When he saw how problematic the rescue mission turned out to be, Draco began to doubt if it was actually a good idea to take on this creature. But the desire to get power prevailed and displaced the concerns to the rearmost corner of his subconscious mind. Now he knew at least with what he would have to deal. He had to consider well how he wanted to proceed. He didn't know at all how the dragon should be the key to his success. But he perceived that he had to go into the cave and the very thought of it quickened his pulse.

During the last few hours, Draco had tried to work out the events of the past day and to arrange a plan. However, it came to nothing so far. But now he wanted to brush this thought aside and just enjoy the match.

The more Draco approached the stadium, the more populated the streets became. More and more people were pushing towards the big event. Hardly anybody wanted to miss the first match of the World Cup. After all, the official ex-world champions France had to play against the host Romania, fourth place at the last tournament - an absolutely top clash.

It could not be ignored who gained the most sympathies at this game. There were flags of the Romanian sign everywhere. Many people had dressed in the colours blue, yellow and red furthermore to show everyone their favourite, though some fans of the French team could be found in between. Every now and then Draco met a few wizards, singing the French national anthem proudly.

He shook his head, amused about the relationship to a nation, which was quite excessive in his opinion. For him there was only the match. Indeed he had one or two favourite teams, but for him only the quality of a team counted, not the matter of belonging to a special country. And it was because of this that he was nowhere near dressing in anyone's colours.

But perhaps it was just due to the attack at the French school that the mood of the French fans was more muted. Draco had surprisingly been able to get a Daily Prophet at his inn. The headline had been highly visible. And by means of the pictures at the other home and foreign newspapers, Draco was able to make out that the topic had been spread fast. Apparently, they were all sure that it had to be the work of Death Eaters. Draco didn't put something like that passed Voldemort but he wasn't exactly sure about his own opinion since he hadn't found out about such an activity up until now. _'But I haven't been at home for a long time at all. Who knows what has been going on while I wasn't there. After all, Lucius' letter yesterday was the first since...'_ In any case this news induced him to be more one his guard than before. _'Perhaps it was actually a last-minute decision... Or... are they suspicious and don't trust me anymore?'_ But it was no use to rack his brains, which was something he agreed to. His next encounter with Lucius would be interesting...

After a while Draco came to a large place, which was located directly in front of the stadium. There were plenty of stalls with fan items, brochures, Quidditch equipment and many other things the sellers tried to dispose of.

Draco wandered around the place for a while and watched the people. When he suddenly caught sight of a familiar face, his body went rigid but the person disappeared quite fast into the crowd, giving him no chance to follow. _'I could have simply been wrong. But what, if I'm not? He's definitely not the type to come to a match for sheer fun. I thought Lucius would still take up some of his time.'_

Draco walked towards the entrance of the stadium, pondering. He had to be on his guard. Should what he feared occur, he had to be able to react fast. He didn't want to get in between the fronts on any account.

As a result of the ongoing war, the safety regulations were particularly high at this World Cup, so that everyone could only get inside the Quidditch stadium through one of the eight guarded entrances. Long rows of wizards from all around the world were forming, that was why it took a while until the people got to the sentries, who checked everyone they found suspicious.

By now Draco was glad he had got the ticket already the previous day. He was by no means the one who had the patience to line up more than once.

When he stepped through the archway he noticed the air around him crackling. _'What's this kind of magic? What kind of dangerous weapon should I be able to carry with me except for my wand?'_ But then he spotted a huge board on one of the walls, his name suddenly appearing on it. _'What? You're being registered?'_ Involuntary he had to sneer. _'As if that would hold back someone like Lucius...'_

A wide staircase led to the desired VIP-lounge, for which he hadn't been able to get a ticket anymore, despite a murder threat. Instead he had to be content with one of the seats at the under part of the box seats. _'At least it's not a standing ticket. Though I'll probably get my neck dislocated down there,'_ Draco grumbled. When he finally reached his seat, inspecting the Quidditch pitch, he noticed that sentries were placed nearly everywhere. _'Does the Ministry consider an attack taking place?'_ Every passage way was protected and nobody was able to get into a zone he hadn't permission or a ticket for.

It didn't take long until a wizard, who was obviously the stadium commentator, stepped into the middle of the pitch, murmuring the Sonorus charm to announce the match. Draco couldn't understand him because he wasn't able to speak the Romanian language, but on every side of the stadium there were huge screens on which translations in various languages appeared.

"Welcome to the four hundred and twenty fourth Quidditch World Cup! We're pleased to be allowed to host this event and wish all guests an enjoyable stay as much as exciting matches!" Thousands and thousands of Quidditch-freaks applauded the announcer. But he recognised on the basis of several interjections that most of the wizards weren't eager for an excessive speech but rather wanted to see the long desired match immediately. Thus he brushed his thoughts about a somewhat longer welcome speech aside and gave the audience what they wanted.

"But now I don't intend to keep you on tenterhooks and am going to introduce to you the teams of the first match." Raucous bawling sounded through the rows.

"As the first team... the official ex-world champions France with its players... Jaques "The Twisted" Le Tort as Keeper... the Chasers Jean Camus, Rachel Breton and Madeleine Marquand... Pierre Gabin and Damien Faure as Beaters... and the Seeker Seraphine Serrault!"

The French players, all dressed in azure Quidditch-robes, flew into the stadium, encircled by hundreds of fairies, the mascots of the French. Fans of the French team waved their flags and cheered for their idols. The fairies, so tiny that they would be able to lie in a human hand perfectly, seemed to have been chosen by their wing colour which matched the colours of the French team's strip. With their fast movements, they immersed the stadium in a colourful glittering sheen, drawing large circles around the pitch and finally settling down at the side of their team.

Draco spotted a familiar face amongst the French players, wondering how he could know someone of this national team. But then he slowly remembered - the Triwizard Tournament in his fourth year at Hogwarts. The seeker had been one of the visitors from Beauxbatons, making advances to him all the time. He had to chuckle when he thought about Pansy's jealous behaviour. What would they have both said if he had told them at that time that he wasn't interested in girls?

Draco's thoughts got interrupted when the voice of the stadium announcer could be heard again. "...And as the opponents, the host Romania, fourth place at the last tournament with its players Marius Trausan as Keeper... Radu Diaconu, Angela Hurezeanu and Dan Tomuta at the Chaser-positions... the Beaters Viktoria Ceausescu and Cosmin Ionescu... and Adrian Perlea as Seeker!"

Between thunderous applause, the players of the host team flew into the stadium from the opposite side, blood-red capes billowing behind them. The players were followed closely by a huge black cloud, which disbanded suddenly and hundreds of bats disclosed themselves. The bats criss-crossed the stadium at a high speed, the flap of their wings ear-piercing.

When the bats had finally flown to the Romanian side of the Quidditch pitch, the stadium commentator announced the referee, an American wizard whose gaze looked as though he wanted to impale every single player.

"I don't want to blether any longer. Let the match begin!" The speaker left the pitch amid great applause and went to a panelled box from where he would apparently comment the match.

The spectators, wanting to see their teams in action, finally got to do so as the referee opened the wooden coffer he had brought with him to release the Bludgers and the Golden Snitch. In the meantime, the players had gathered around the referee, waiting for the Quaffle which got thrown into the air shortly after.

The French players were faster and snapped up the Quaffle first - the match had begun. Like at most every top class encounter, the stadium commentator wasn't able to make large digressions, the moves were too fast.

"Camus... Breton... bad hit from a Bludger... Tomuta... Diaconu... GOAL!!! 10:0 for Romania!"

The stadium quivered. The Romanian fans stood on top of their seats and celebrated the players while the bat-cloud drew another circle around the pitch. The screens with the comments of the stadium announcer showed a slow motion replay of the shot at the French hoops by Diaconu along the way.

And the match went on. "Hawkshead Attacking Formation by the Frenchmen... Marquand... Camus... GOAL!!! 10:10"

Now it was the fairies' turn to express their joy by sweeping through the crowd of spectators with their colourful strokes of wings.

The match was balanced for a long while, none of the teams made it over a margin of thirty points. It was a high quality match, not being boring at any time. Every team showed its skills by different manoeuvres and tactics but fouls weren't missing and one or another player gained several wounds.

Draco savoured the ambience at the stadium; perhaps it hadn't been that wrong at all to not be in the VIP-lounge. He hadn't seen such a good match a long time ago. The French team took a time-out to get their keeper vetted. He had been hit with one of the Bludgers right in the stomach, causing him to fall backwards through one of the goal hoops, only to land on the sandy soil in a free fall.

In the meantime, Draco's gaze skimmed over the stadium. Here and there, opposing fans of the teams had got into quarrels and the watchmen had plenty to do for calming the wranglers again.

At one of the lower entrances, near the tunnel from which the Romanian players had come out, stood another small group of sentinels. They seemed a bit worried. Draco could make out that more than one wizard was speaking at the same time. Suddenly the blond froze because a figure stepped out of the entrance, a figure like one he had seen before, just the other day. But this time it couldn't be a mistake. What would the dragon keeper be doing in the midst of a group of Aurors? His neighbour had laid down his magical binoculars onto the balustrade in front of him while he was arguing with another spectator about the most capable seeker. Draco took the Omnioculars and focused it at the group. "It is him." His heart began to beat fast all of a sudden. "What is HE doing here?"

Draco knew that Ron sometimes worked for the Order but besides that he had no clue about the things he did. Suddenly, he got the urge to run to him and take him out of the stadium. He wasn't really sure if something was about to happen but he was reluctant to leave it to chance - Ron could be in a dangerous situation. He owed him too much, he couldn't just watch and do nothing.

But suddenly his sanity called in again and told him that he should not be a fool. What would that look like? A fearful Slytherin, anxious about someone he hadn't seen in years who probably hadn't spent a single thought about him.

But before Draco realised it, Ron had disappeared again, leaving him with doubts about his senses for a short moment. The voice of the stadium commentator cut through his thoughts, announcing that the match would go on now. Players flew over the pitch in a muddle and Draco lost sight of the opposite box seats.

It didn't take long until Adrian Perlea caught the Snitch with an audacious manoeuvre around the poles of the opposition hoops, finishing the match at a score of 350:180 for Romania. Raging rejoicings flowed through the stadium, supported by the frantic flutter of bats, when the Romanian seeker flew triumphantly his lap of honour, the Snitch still clutched in his left hand.

But when he flew right by the VIP-box an immense explosion rocked the circles...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] La Liliac (Romanian) - The Bat  
> [2] Cavitate de Dragon (Romanian) - Dragon's Lair


	6. Aftermaths

Ron was visibly irritated. Everything had been planned so well, but for some reason things didn't go like he had planned. Apparently, the Romanian security forces weren't able to get the smallest problems under control.

At first everything went well. Because of an Anti-Apparation Charm, every visitor to the World Cup had to enter the stadium through one of the guarded entrances. The security precautions worked efficiently; every visitor got registered when he went through the archway, therefore, providing a record of everyone in attendance, just in case of an 'unwanted event'.

But everything came out differently than planned...

Ron had gone into the cabin of the stadium announcer during the match, given that he had a good view over the stadium from there. While the French team had taken a time-out, he noticed that some sentinels had gathered nearby the tunnels, debating with each other heatedly.

An uneasy gut feeling made Ron decide to have a look for the source of the turmoil the Romanian surveillance-wizards were in.

The way down to the entrance where he had spotted the group didn't take more than a few minutes. When he turned the last corner, he already heard the nervous babble of voices from the Romanians. Normally, he was able to just about communicate with the Romanians, but during this utter confusion he only picked up a few fragments of their conversation.

"...security hole...intruders...Razvan..."

"What's up with Razvan?" Ron asked when he joined the Aurors, who were mostly Romanian. The slight anxiety broadening inside of him was hardly to restrain. "Where is he?"

A tall wizard called Marian Galaicu turned towards him and looked at him somewhat appalled. He was the group leader in the Romanian region of the tunnels. He was actually quite a competent man in Ron's eyes, capable of keeping his control even in difficult situations, but now Ron thought he could catch a hint of uncertainty in his light brown eyes.

But when Marian spoke, he acted composed. "We found him in one of the cells down in the tunnels. Someone had used a Binding Charm on him. He was unconscious."

"WHAT?" Ron was beside himself with rage, worry and anxiety. "How could that happen?" But Ron rather didn't want to know it. The realisation of someone having broken through their security system was much worse. _'What's going on here?'_

"Razvan has been guarding one of the entrances alone for a short time. Someone must have taken him by surprise. When Emil came back to the entrance, he was missing and the Registry Charm had been cancelled." Ron noticed that Marian was taking the whole affair much to heart, though it definitely could not be his fault. If Razvan had been keeping watch alone voluntarily, nobody could reproach him.

"Damn," Ron cursed, "how often did we discuss that no one stays alone when in position? Now you see what comes out of it." He didn't want to give Emil a speech; above all, it wasn't his job. Marian would certainly tackle him later.

"Well, we have to find out who the attacker was and above all what he's up to. You take care of Razvan," he told one of the wizards, who looked as if he would prefer to be holed up in a dark corner, "and two of you look after the safety precautions at the gate. The rest of you sift through the tunnels and seats in groups of two. Send blue sparks through the corridors if you notice something suspicious and wait for back-up." Ron looked quickly around and saw that everyone nodded. "Let's go. Marian?"

The addressed Romanian followed the Gryffindor towards the VIP lounge. It went without saying that they attended to this critical point themselves. After all, celebrities from all kinds of countries had arrived for the opening of the World Cup.

But before they turned the last corner, which led to the long corridor to the VIP-lounge, Marian held him back. When he saw Ron's enquiring look he just shook his head and sent blue sparks towards the direction they had come from. Ron didn't understand for he hadn't noticed anything notable so far, but he decided that it would be safer to trust his colleague.

When the two Aurors looked cautiously into the dark corridor they could make out a cloaked figure in the glow of the torches, kneeling at the entrance to the VIP-lounge with his back facing them. Next to him lay the unconscious bodies of the two assigned sentries. _'Hopefully only unconscious...'_ Ron thought and suddenly he felt quite queasy. _'How could he manage to get here?'_ After a quick glance and a nod on the part of his colleague, he and Marian tried to sidle up to the stranger as silent as possible. In doing so, they noticed that he was bending over something they couldn't identify in the dim light of the tunnels. Only every now and then did they catch a small gleam, as if the light of the torches were reflected in something.

They didn't need words to agree. Pulling out their wands, they approached the apparent intruder. They didn't dare attack him at that instant, being unable to assess the danger emanating from him.

_'What is he doing there anyway? And who is this person at all?'_

However, during Ron's train of thoughts the person suddenly stood up and turned to them.

"You're too late!" The eyes of the stranger looked as if they were glowing, standing out against the darkness even though the rest of his face was kept hidden under the hood. He put his hand forth, holding a glass sphere with green bolts, flashing as if they were searching frantically for a way out.

_'What's that thing?'_ Ron thought. He had never heard of such an object, let alone seen one. And Marian too seemed to be puzzled, his features having shaded distinctly. Because they didn't know what they had to deal with, their possibilities were quite limited. The stranger started to speak again while both of them were still thinking.

"You can't stop me anymore. This sphere holds dozens of deadly hexes. And when it breaks..." The lunatic laughter of the unknown person penetrated his ears and slowly Ron started to think that he knew the voice. He just couldn't say exactly where from.

But then his opponent pulled down the hood and Ron's eyes widened. In front of him stood one of his former schoolmates, one he had thought of never needing to see again...

"Ronald Weasley..." The low snarl sent a shiver down the spine of the addressed person. "It's an especially great pleasure for me to meet you again. At last I'm getting the opportunity to pay you back for trying to snatch Draco away from us that time."

A flash of panic came over Ron. All the years he had thought that no one had known anything about him and the blond Slytherin. Apparently he was thoroughly wrong. It's true that he had noticed that the rest of the Slytherins had been more nasty than normal, especially the one standing directly in front of him now. But he had never thought that his relationship had something to do with that. 'How naïve have I been...' Ron wondered how much the Slytherin really knew and if he was the only one.

"You can only be glad that Draco eventually came to his senses again. But now..." The glow in his eyes was just more threateningly now and Ron realised that he was only one more step away from his enemy, who had stepped up to him while speaking.

The following incidents passed so fast that Ron wasn't able to lift a finger. He felt paralysed and could still hear the words being spoken to him, fraught with hatred.

Without Ron taking notice of it, the Slytherin had pulled out his wand and pointed it at the heavy wooden door of the VIP-lounge. A yell clanged through the long hallway when the curse had been spoken but the flash didn't hit the door. Marian had watched the conversation between the two closely and had lunged now at the offender to snatch his wand away from him.

Somewhere in the farthest corner of his consciousness, Ron asked himself why Marian hadn't stupefied him with a spell. But he hadn't enough time left to follow this thought. The diverted flash hit the wall to the box seats next to the VIP-lounge and tore a hole into the wood with a loud bang. The vehemence of the explosion hit the front of Ron's body, causing him to tumble several steps back. Despite much effort, he couldn't keep his legs from giving way and he fell backwards onto the hard stone floor.

Even though everything passed so fast it seemed to Ron like it was in slow motion when Marian and his opponent toppled down together. All Ron could do was stare at the hand holding the glass sphere, watching how the fingers loosened and let the sphere fall to the floor.

Ron followed the events with wide eyes. He wanted to scream, to run towards them, to catch the sphere, but his limbs just didn't want to move. He still heard the words of the Death Eater in his ears, having caught him so unprepared. And only slowly he began to understand what exactly was going on.

Marian too seemed to have noticed that they were facing a disaster and before Ron could really realise it, he managed to stretch enough to catch the sphere within the last moment.

During this act he admittedly had to give his opponent some space, who used this opportunity for turning around towards Marian and levelling his wand at him. The rage could be clearly read from his face and when Ron saw the "Avada..." forming on his lips he finally regained his composure. Something had awoken him when he saw the immediate threat for his colleague and with his own curse he threw the Death Eater against the already abundantly damaged wall of the VIP-lounge.

Only now did Ron dare to breathe again, the tension slowly leaving his body. He nearly didn't dare go to the unconscious body but his feet seemed to move on their own. From the corner of his eye he saw how Marian watched him with a shocked expression, still too distressed about what had nearly overtaken him.

But Ron still went up to the Slytherin, his head feeling as if thousands of thoughts were crashing in at once. Thoughts of the explosion, of the injured or dead people they didn't have a notion of yet, pictures of several Death Eaters straying the hallways. But, most of all, memories of Draco came to his mind, the fear that every one of Voldemort's followers knew about them. What if they tried to get to him through Draco? What kind of information did they get about him and the Order because of Draco?

He heard the distant steps of the Romanian Aurors, which were arriving in the meantime, but his look was only fixed on the motionless body, on the now glassy eyes of Theodore Nott...

~~~~~

When he had finally realised what had happened, Draco found himself amongst a hysterical crowd, thousands of people running around panic-stricken, screaming and trying desperately to get out of the stadium. With effort, he managed to not be overrun by the masses, but he couldn't ward off the stream dragging him along. 

He had the feeling of being swept along by a giant wave. From all sides he got hustled and pushed. Many a time an elbow got at his ribs and he probably would have turned around to hex the person responsible if he hadn't had to try so hard from being overrun by the crowd. By no means did he want to end up like some of the wizards he had to climb over. Some hadn't made it to keep themselves upright in between the masses and were trying desperately to get out of thousands of feet alive.

While Draco made an effort to get out of the jostle he tried to arrange his thoughts.

It seemed as if Lucius had followed through with his adumbrations earlier than Draco had assumed. _'On the other hand... there couldn't be a more perfect time... apart from the final game perhaps.'_

But he had to watch out. What if one of his father's footmen saw him here? How could he get out of this situation without choosing a side? They wouldn't be surprised to see him here but he would have to take a stand. That was the last thing he wanted to do. 'Or maybe Lucius is here in person? No, he's too above this kind of work.' He couldn't refrain from snorting in contempt. His father had never been the one for simple work. Only when he had to deal with something very special and all-important did Lucius care to operate it himself. But not with such a - in his eyes - trivial task.

Meanwhile the crowd had come nearer to one of the exits and Draco made use of the chance to disappear into one of the niches. Only now did he dare to breathe, relaxed again as he drew the air deep into his lungs. It's true that he hadn't problems with large crowds; however, he couldn't keep his countenance completely when they were acting like this.

_'They thought about everything, except how they can get all the people out of the stadium unharmed in case of an emergency.'_ Draco could only shake his head. _'So much for Anti-Apparation Charms.'_

He needed a few minutes to gather his bearings. The crowd had led him automatically near the Romanian tunnels. He couldn't be far away from the VIP-lounges where the explosion had taken place. At least that was the only logical explanation crossing his mind at the moment.

_'RON!'_ The thought hit him like lightning. Where was he at the time of detonation? Only a short time previously had he seen him at the other end of the stadium. What had happened?

Draco was a bit worried for himself. He hadn't thought that he could forget everything so fast, just because he worried about the redhead. All these years, he had been able to suppress his still-existing feelings for him into the last corner of his mind but now, when he knew he was near, everything else seemed to be inconsequential. Nevertheless, he tried to focus on the essentials by contemplating what his father had mentioned about the assault at the World Cup.

As far as he remembered, the attack should only have been the prelude, the start of a set of other offensives which were to show that the Death Eaters were anything but inactive during the last weeks. But the attack ought to serve another purpose, too. Like with every World Cup, the VIP-lounge would be full of high-ranking guests from all over the world. It would be a heavy blow for the respective countries if their governments were weakened that much. Privately, Draco was glad for not having got a ticket for one of those seats.

But apparently something must have been gone wrong given the fact that the explosion hadn't hit the VIP-lounge directly. Draco had noticed at least that much before the crowd had drawn him towards the exit.

Uncertainty was something Draco didn't like at all and therefore he decided to go towards the VIP-lounge using one of the tributary hallways, which were hopefully a bit less populated. He wanted to get a general idea himself, even though he possibly might run into Voldemort's followers.

But nobody came across him in the dark hallways of the tunnels, which astonished him and he began to wonder seriously what this all meant. How few people had his father sent? He had reckoned on considerably more. Or could it be that all had been centred on this one explosion?

Draco had to admit that his lack of knowledge, caused by his absence, was making him a bit insecure after all. He should have spent more energy on his father's plans. But he couldn't change that anymore. He had to be on his guard all the more, trying to act as inconspicuous as possible, just in case.

But all his intentions got ruined as he turned the last corner and arrived at the hallway to the VIP-lounge...

He scurried into one of the niches when he saw two Aurors, bent over an unconscious body. He stood a few feet away and though their backs were directed towards him, he noticed immediately that one of them was Ron and, unintentionally, a sigh of relief escaped him.

But the glow of the torches wasn't enough for him to see the face of the motionless person lying on the floor in front of them. It's true that Draco had an idea; however, he wanted to assure himself. But he didn't dare to step nearer, now was the worst time to provoke an encounter with his former lover.

There were some wizards standing around the two who Draco didn't know but because of their clothes and nervous behaviour, he supposed that they had to be sitting in the VIP-lounge. When he saw the giant hole in the wall next to the VIP-lounge, he could only wonder that some of them had in fact survived the explosion.

That very moment he heard the hasty steps of several persons and he pressed himself farther into the dark of the hollow in the wall. Four or five wizards, probably part of the security team, ran past him. Suddenly one of the men stopped and looked sceptically towards the spot where Draco had pressed himself close to the planks in the shadow. But before the Auror could approach and discover him, one of his colleagues called him and he disappeared again.

Draco scarcely dared to breathe and it took some seconds until he risked looking into the hallway to watch the events. The range was too large for him to understand any of the words spoken but it was clear that Ron and the Auror standing next to him were giving the just-arrived-ones instructions. A short time later the same persons, who had passed him before, came back again, between them a hovering body. Now the Slytherin could finally identify who it was.

_'Theo!'_ His heart suddenly seemed to beat a little faster. _'So I had seen correctly earlier. But certainly he's not alone here...'_ Theodore Nott was in fact a competent Death Eater but Draco didn't believe that he had taken on this task alone. _'I wonder how many more are here.'_

Draco saw how one man of the security forces stayed and took care of all the senior guests in the VIP-lounge. He led them down the hallway into the opposite direction with pacifying gestures.

Before he was able to catch another thought he suddenly saw a moving shadow on the other side of the hallway.

Ron and his colleague attended to two more motionless bodies lying near the VIP-lounge and due to their behaviour, he assumed that they belonged to their staff. Apparently, they tried to bring both back to consciousness and they seemed so engrossed in their work that they didn't notice someone sneaking up to them. Perhaps they just didn't count on another Death Eater, now that Nott's try more or less had failed. Or they were just waiting for others from the security team before they wanted to start searching the hallways. _'Fools!'_

Through the hole the explosion had torn out of the wall, Draco could hear the panicked screams of some people, though they seemed to die away. But they were still loud enough to drown out the nearly soundless steps of the other person, lurking in the dark. Even Draco had to peer fiercely over to not loose her from his field of vision and his breath caught when he saw how a wand was being pointed at the two Aurors that very moment.

The situation caused an unintentional conflict inside of him. He didn't know how he should react and his thoughts seemed to rush. In a sense he wanted to stay out of this but he couldn't just watch Ron get hurt or even killed. But then he had to give up cover and risk being discovered. Somehow he had to make it, getting out of this situation, without giving himself away. _'But how?'_

There was not much time left for him to decide when he saw the Death Eater stepping out of the shadows, preparing to speak an incantation. Intuitively, Draco pointed his own wand at the person, recognising him now while he stood in the light of the torches. Despite his frayed nerves he tried not to speak too loud. Maybe he could get the whole situation under his control without attracting the attention of Ron and his colleague. Either way he would have to act fast.

The Death Eater seemed to have noticed him because he turned his head just the moment Draco spoke his Binding and Silencing Charm and stared at him. When the spell hit him, his tense look changed to a questioning expression, only to be replaced with pure animosity shortly after.

Everything had passed quite fast and noiselessly but Draco didn't want to put his luck to the test and therefore he hauled the helpless Death Eater into the next corridor with a Levitation Charm. Just in time too because, from the corner, of his eye he could see that Ron was turning around the moment he disappeared behind the corner.

He heard voices and fast paces approaching him. Therefore he had to hurry, running off with the bound body preferably without a trace.

Without looking back, he ran through the long dark hallways of the tunnels until he was finally near the exit. He didn't know if his hunters were still closing in on him; the sounds got drowned out by the babble of voices in front of the stadium and inside the halls.

He could see security men trying to calm down the people and attempting to get them out of the stadium somewhat civilised. Here and there, they had to immobilise wizards who were trying to curse their way out. Draco didn't want to think about how it would be if they succeeded. It was probably what the Death Eaters had intended with their attack - a mass hysteria, everyone fighting one another.

The Slytherin hauled the still defenceless Death Eater on his feet again and put his arm around him to drag him outside amongst the masses. The crowd helped him carry the person's weight, so it didn't take him too much effort.

When he was finally outside, he pulled the body behind one of the many small tents standing on the areaway of the stadium. There he let him fall onto the floor and released him from the Silencing Charm.

"Draco! Damn, what's going on here? On which side are you actually on?" The eyes of his opponent seemed to lighten with distrust and the addressed thought desperately about how he could sneak out of this situation.

"Could you please calm down for a minute? Be glad that we've escaped the security forces. Had you paid more attention you'd noticed that several aurors were on their way to the VIP-lounge." Draco didn't know how he had come up so fast with this lie; the words just came tumbling out. But apparently they were effective on his opponent.

"They would have taken you before you could have even thought about getting out of there again. By the founders, you still haven't learnt to use your brains, Vince?"

His former schoolmate now looked at him quite questionably, as if he didn't want to trust his words at all but also realising that Draco was the son of Voldemort's fugleman and enjoyed a special position between the ranks of Death Eater.

That one freed Draco from the Binding Spell. "What are you planning next? During my absence I didn't get much information from father."

Evidently Crabbe had decided to believe him because he didn't lunge at him at once but looked at him a tad confused. "The ministry... I don't know what's happening exactly, only that they have got someone."

"Alright, now get out of here. I have to take care of something else." But Crabbe seemed as if he didn't want to budge. "Or do you want to get caught by the security after all? Tell my father that I'll be back in a few days. And now GO!" The sharp sound got Crabbe flinching, but he stood up and disappeared without another word into the crowd.

Draco sank on the ground exhausted; his back leaning against the tarpaulin. A deep sigh escaped his lips. He really hadn't believed that it would be that simple to persuade Vincent.

_'Hope it won't go wrong...'_

~~~~~

The day had been long and Ron just wanted to forget. He had sent a short note to his family and Dumbledore to inform them of the current events, but now he wanted to put all of it behind himself for at least one evening. 

After the incident at the VIP-lounge they had searched the tunnels repeatedly, having found two more Death Eaters, who they had arrested temporary. But their side hadn't been without losses either, several injured and one dead of the security forces.

But the visitors' harm was much worse. The explosion had torn a huge hole into the box seats and not less than ten wizards had been slain according to status quo. Several dozen were disabled and were lying in a temporary infirmary tent on the areaway of the stadium where they got treated from a few healers. The next hospital was just too far away since they could only be found in the bigger cities and a transport wouldn't have been responsible for every case.

And that was just what they knew about the direct impact of the explosion. How many people were suffering severe harm because of the panic wasn't noted at all.

Thousands of thoughts were racing through Ron's head and he knew that he would just brood more when Marian asked him to come with him to one of the clubs in town. Thus he agreed, glad about some kind of distraction. Though a club wasn't really something he would prefer right now, it would provide sufficient indulgence to forget the events of the day for at least a short time. And that was something Ron could really do with. Furthermore he didn't want to stay alone, he knew himself too well for knowing that solitude would crush him right now. Seemingly, the others felt similar.

Nearly all people of the security team who weren't lying in the infirmary tent had come along. But soon they trailed off in the crowd after they had entered the club. Marian and Ron looked for a table and ordered something to drink.

Neither of them wanted to speak about what had happened and so they sat silently side by side for a while, both content with the stillness between them. Ron let his gaze wander over the people in the room; some were sitting at the bar or at tables like them and were talking, others in turn had settled onto a small dance floor and were moving to a mix of traditional but also modern music. Depending on the kind of music, the light being focused on the dance floor changed from bright to dim or some mix of both.

After the third firewhiskey Ron noticed how his muscles began to slowly relax and he leant back slack against the padded seats. He saw that next to him his colleague was doing the same.

The effect of the alcohol and the music enveloped Ron in a warm and comforting state and for a moment he closed his eyes, trying to forget everything around him momentarily, to push the events of the past day away into the farthest corner of his memory.

Suddenly he heard the low voice of Marian quite near his own ear. "You've got a pretty deep scratch there on your neck." Ron felt how his colleague touched the injury, which wasn't closed completely yet, softly with a finger. In addition to a short ache because of the contact to the wound, Ron also felt a slight prickling, spreading slowly out from his neck. He realised how one or two drops of blood ran along his neck down to the collarbone. His fingers warily wiped up the drops and he opened his eyes to look at them.

"A jinx touched me a little while ago and I fell on a wooden balustrade. Must have got harmed right then," Ron answered in a somewhat shaky voice. Marian sat, to Ron's surprise, much nearer to him than before.

_'How did he do that without me noticing?'_

The Romanian took hold of his hand and brought his lips to his fingers to clean the blood carefully and slowly with his tongue. The whole time Ron looked him in the eyes, suddenly feeling as though he had a lump in this throat. Nevertheless, he swallowed hard, and somehow found himself enjoying the closeness of his colleague.

Marian turned his head back softly with his hand and Ron sensed Marian's breath close to his skin. A shiver ran down his spine, it had been far too long since he had felt someone that near to him, it just couldn't not effect him.

_'Why the hell not?'_

The Romanian's hand left his face again, only to slide slowly along his neck to his chest and Ron felt goose bumps rising. He decided to just relish in the sensations and closed his eyes again. If Marian wanted to do something, Ron would certainly be the last to reject the offer.

After all, he wasn't really unattractive. He was tall and slender, with somewhat strong shoulders you just wanted to lean on. His long dark hair fell down on them in slight waves and now, when Ron was thinking about it, he really wanted to comb through them with his fingers. His kind facial features got Ron suspecting that he couldn't harm a Flobberworm when they first met, but it turned out that this was far from the truth. Sometimes Marian's light brown eyes sparkled playfully and you just couldn't avert your eyes. You could detect some fine scars on his face and arms when you were looking close enough, but they didn't deface him and Ron wondered for what reason the Romanian kept his scars.

_'Perhaps as a reminder or warning?'_

The fingers on his chest began to make light circular motions and Ron felt, how his body slowly began to react to the touch. When Ron noticed how Marian's tongue followed the trace of the wound he couldn't prevent taking a sharp breath. The slight burn caused by the contact of blood and saliva spread pleasurably out on his whole upper torso. _'Merlin, it's really been too long.'_

The soft impulse got replace far too soon by a light nibbling, only intensifying Ron's sensations. The cautious caresses changed to demanding but gentle little bites and his heart suddenly seemed to be racing. But before he could waste another thought he realised how Marian got snatched off from him. The move was just too abrupt for it to be deliberate on Marian's part.

Ron opened his eyes in confusion to see what was happening, his thoughts still a bit blurred and overwhelmed. Marian lay on the ground, around him shards of the glasses he had dragged along with him.

His look roamed from the Romanian to the figure standing above him and his heart seemed to stop from one second to the next when he stared into the furiously blazing eyes of Draco Malfoy...


	7. Reunion

The setting sun slowly disappeared behind the crests of the Carpathians and only thick wads of smoke still welling up from the stadium blurred the image. Even now, hours after the explosion, nobody had been able to remedy the damage. It would probably take several more days for the repair work and rumours as to the further progress of the Quidditch World Cup were bleak.

Draco Malfoy stood at the window of his lodging and looked pensively out towards the place where he had been witness to a disaster only a few hours ago. He had come back to the inn quite recently and tried to sort out his thoughts about the events.

After his encounter with Vincent Crabbe, he had sneaked back to the stadium to get a better idea of the situation. Though he knew that it could get dangerous, his curiosity had been too strong. And after all, it was a matter of finding out about his father's plans more than Crabbe could've told him.

He had been lurking all the time but he had only barely been able to escape security a few times. He had watched two of his father's henchmen getting arrested by the Aurors - both sons of two most respectable followers of Voldemort, apart from Lucius, of course. Draco was surprised that he hadn't seen any of the experienced Death Eaters. He slowly got the idea that the attack at the Quidditch World Cup had been some kind of test, a demonstration of loyalty.

_'Not really successful,'_ the Slytherin thought as the last sunrays finally disappeared behind the mountains.

But the one thing worrying him the most was Vincent's statement. His father had never mentioned anything about an assault on the Ministry in his presence. _'How much does he really mistrust me?'_ The thought about his father's deceitful scheming sent a cold shiver down his back. He had learnt so much from his father during the years but he still couldn't predict what he was up to next.

But the way it looked now, all of the previous attacks had been planned as red herrings. Maybe his father's intention was that the Ministry would turn to international matters. If they thought Voldemort had decided to concentrate on other countries, they could be stupid enough to neglect their inner security. _'But whom did they infiltrate?'_ The blond Slytherin couldn't figure anybody the Ministry wouldn't observe suspiciously.

In spite of everything, Draco had to admit to himself that he couldn't change anything right now. And breaking off everything and going back to Malfoy Manor because of a vague idea was out of the question. _'Well, I won't get stirred from my resolve to find the diamond. So I have no other choice than to risk the wrath of my father and him abandoning me. I'd rather get on his wrong side than keep up with my life as it has been during the last years.'_

He was still too agitated to stay in his room now and dwell on his thoughts. He needed something to distract him and so he went down into the small lounge, asking the publican about the possibilities in town this time of day. He was referred to a club nearby where, according to the publican's words, mainly the somewhat younger generation lingered.

The blond Slytherin didn't actually care if he was amidst contemporaries or not. However he decided that anything was better than sitting alone in his room, brooding over the Death Eaters' intentions and getting a headache from it.

Therefore he headed to the address the publican had given him, only a short walk away. On his way he didn't meet many people, apparently too many were frightened by the events of the day. Occasionally he saw some standing together in dark corners, talking excitedly. But Draco didn't understand enough of their national language to form an intelligible sentence from the fragments he caught. Yet their gestures and glances were more than enough to tell him he was right with his guesses.

When he had left the inn, it had struck him that even in its taproom it had been unusually empty. During the last days, there had been a lot going on in the small room at this hour. But today there had only been two guests present. And even they didn't seem in particularly good spirits.

Draco supposed the club his publican had recommended probably wouldn't be that crowded either and was surprised all the more when he saw how many people were in the place.

He had almost missed the entrance. Nothing but a tiny sign at a wooden door indicated a club behind the walls. But when a somewhat drunken guest came out of the door, loud music streamed out onto the street and pulled Draco out of his deep thoughts. However, he first looked around sceptically before he entered the club. In spite of everything, he had misgivings and he didn't want to get involved even more than he already was. And after all, he still wasn't completely sure every Death Eater had disappeared.

_'Why am I not able to relax just once?'_ Draco sighed inwardly. _'It's about time I find the diamond. Then everything will hopefully get to an end.'_

But when the smoky atmosphere of the club and the music enclosed him, he didn't have a chance to follow his thoughts anymore. Surprisingly, many people were in the large room, whose extent he never would've expected from the outside. In the middle of the room there was a small dance floor where varying amounts of people moved to the sounds of different types of music.

All around were bars, alcoves and tables at which small groups had formed here and there. Judging by their behaviour, they too were dealing with the events of the day, but their moods weren't as clouded as the other people of the town. Indeed, Draco picked up that some people were whispering agitatedly with each, observing their surroundings nervously at times. But most of the clientele seemed to look for diversion and distraction in this club.

Draco glanced over the room and noticed a wide staircase leading to a gallery, from which you could have a good look on the lower level. He decided to watch the happenings for a while from this place. _'Who knows, maybe this evening provides for some distraction eventually.'_

After having managed to get a glass of fire whiskey from one of the bartenders, he went towards the staircase. Here and there he saw faces of the security team he had avoided during the past day at the stadium and instinctively he asked himself if Ron could possibly be here too. But he quickly pushed this thought away. If he wanted to look for some distraction, this was the last thing helping him.

But when he had walked up the first steps he noticed out of the corner of his eye the blazing red hair that was so familiar to him in one of the alcoves that he stood still in an instant. Draco's feelings were abruptly all mixed up. _'Why does HE of all people have to be here?'_ As much as he wanted to meet Ron again, he was also afraid of it. Memories from their shared past came up again, thoughts about how happy they had been. But all this was suddenly overshadowed by pictures of their break-up. Would Ron even want to see him? How would this reunion affect them and their new lives?

Every moment that passed, he began to think less clearly. It was as if his heart had stopped beating. Maybe it was the atmosphere of the club, he couldn't really describe it, but it was different than at the stadium when he had seen him at the VIP lounge. Or maybe it was just the lack of tension he had felt that moment.

When someone shoved him, mumbling an apology, he found himself back in the present. Inwardly he swore at himself about his reaction. 'It can't be that this can upset me so much... No, not now. Only when everything's over, maybe then I can try again. This is definitely the wrong moment.'

With feelings still confused, Draco decided to leave the club again as fast as possible. He was sure that he wouldn't be able find distraction anymore. But when he turned around his gaze once again came to rest upon the table Ron was sitting at and what he could see in the crepuscular light made him freeze instantly.

Ron wasn't alone.

Someone sat next to him and way too close for Draco's liking. He couldn't pinpoint it but it seemed as though the other person was leaning closer and closer towards Ron. Draco didn't know why but he couldn't stop himself from getting nearer, trying to see more. And when he finally was near enough to the table, he noticed that this other person was the security guy he had seen Ron with at the VIP lounge.

He watched him drawing his tongue along Ron's throat and his guts tied into a knot. He had no right to disturb this intimate situation but something inside of him couldn't stop him staring at them. A feeling of agitation, fury and jealousy welled up inside of him when he saw how Ron reacted to the actions of the other man. Memories of times where he himself had caused such reactions in Ron were all too clear in his mind and strengthened these feelings painfully.

He knew that time had changed everything and their common past was lying too far behind them for him to be somewhat entitled to be angry. But he just couldn't fight against the feelings he had tried to repress for so long.

But then he saw something that brought his mind immediately back to the present. One of the white spotlights from the dance floor had cast its light shortly over their table and Draco could see how an unusually long pointed tooth reflected the light at Ron's neck. When he realised what was going on he immediately felt this instinct to protect Ron again and he lost control to the upcoming rage inside of him. Without giving another thought, he lunged at the vampire and tore him away from Ron.

A few glasses fell from the table because of his moves and shattered into a thousand pieces, spreading all across the floor. But Draco didn't care about it as he threw the vampire into the next corner. "Don't you even dare come near him again, you blood-sucking piece of scum!" he hissed at him, a dangerous growl coming out of his throat and a flash in his eyes that left no doubt about how far he was willing to go.

It was only when he noticed that Ron was looking at him with a somewhat paralysed stare that Draco's gaze left the vampire's and looked instead into the deep blue that had haunted him in his dreams for years. And it was with that stare that he suddenly felt realisation dawn on him, understanding that his actions would change more than he had been prepared to face. He couldn't breathe anymore, an invisible hand pinching off his air supply...

~~~~~

Ron needed a while to realise what had been going on but nonetheless he still wasn't able to take in everything. In front of him stood the one person who had never left his thoughts entirely, even when his life had taken a complete turn. At his feet lay a pretty confused Marian, eyes wide with fear and his mouth open with shock but no sound escaping his lips. 

Only now Ron noticed the long canine teeth, obviously prominent, and a cold shiver ran down his spine. _'Had he really intended to...?'_ Puzzled, he glanced between Draco and the vampire.

"What...? But...?"

He wasn't able to form a coherent sentence, too many thoughts buzzing around in his head, leaving a mix of feelings behind.

What seemed like an age to Ron had in actuality probably only been a few seconds, as he looked enquiringly from one to the other. His gaze then settled on the stormy-grey eyes that brought up so many memories. Draco withstood his look with his own and Ron could see in them the same emotional mess he was afflicted with right now.

But suddenly Draco averted his gaze jerkily and Ron observed that Marian tried to steal away unnoticed. However, he hadn't reckoned on the blond Slytherin's capacity of reaction and didn't get farther than one or two metres until Draco dragged him back.

"Where do you think you're going? Do you really think you can sneak out of this that easily?"

Marian only looked confused and scared towards his assailant who, by now, had aimed his wand at him. Ron wondered how the Romanian had lost his self-confidence that fast.

Some of the guests who had been standing nearby paused their chats and looked at them with interest. But when Draco snarled at them angrily they turned their backs and recommenced talking to their respective neighbour, as though they were used to such scenes. In fact, not one person seemed worried in the slightest about a wizard threatening another person with his wand. It was likely the patrons had learned it was safer to keep out of other people's affairs. Even in a wizards' village and in dark times like these, solidarity didn't seem to be of the utmost importance.

Eventually Ron regained his speech. "By Merlin's beard, what's going on here?"

When Draco turned towards him the sparkle in his eyes was back, signalling to Ron that the Slytherin was unpredictable at the moment.

"You didn't know that he's a vampire? Even though you're working with him? That figures!"

Ron winced at the jibe. _'Since when is it me standing in the dock?'_ But he decided to discuss this topic later. For now he wanted to hear the truth from his colleague.

"Marian?" It wasn't more than a whisper but the other man had understood him, glancing sheepishly towards him.

"It's true. Well, at least partly... My mother's a witch and thus I'm something like a half-vampire." All this seemed to only raise more questions for Ron. He saw that Marian seemed to be uneasy but didn't want to let him go just yet. He still needed more answers.

As if the Romanian could read his thoughts he continued, halting slightly. "My kind isn't really welcome amongst the wizards, so I hid it. Who would have given me a chance otherwise?" His look got more and more pleading, as if begging Ron to not tell on him, to give him a second chance.

"And what was this just now?" Ron felt the lump in his throat but he just had to know. After all, he had been up to much more than a simple working relationship recently.

"I... I didn't... I really didn't want to hurt you. It was just... Sometimes these sensations just come over me and... there was your blood... and... suddenly I wasn't able to hold back anymore. I... I never really intended for this to happen."

Ron could see it in his eyes that he was telling the truth and while he still had so many questions and wanted to know more about him, he just couldn't bring himself to put even more pressure on Marian. In addition, he didn't know if he could bear with anymore at that moment. Besides, there was someone else he had to deal with.

Ron closed his eyes for a short moment and breathed deeply. _'Why does everything have to be so damn complicated?'_

But when he opened his eyes again and looked at the spot Draco had stood just seconds before, there was nothing. _'Oh no,'_ Ron thought, jumping up from his seat as if an Acromantula had come down right behind him. _'You're not going to escape me that easy.'_ He turned to Marian and mumbled "We're going to talk later." Then he disappeared towards the dance floor, where he had spotted the blond amongst the crowd.

Due to his size, Ron had no problems keeping Draco in sight. He fought his way through the crowd, not caring who he pushed aside in his hurry or whom he stepped on. He didn't take notice of the angry comments either. What he wanted were the answers to his questions, questions suddenly brought to his mind by the Slytherin's presence.

It didn't take long for him to catch up with Draco and he stopped him with a firm grip on his arm. When he turned around, Ron noticed that the expression in Draco's eyes had changed. Though there was still anger to see, seething deep inside of him, there was more behind the façade. And he knew him too well to get fooled by it now. He would find out about the reason for the blond to come back into his life.

But Draco didn't seem to be overzealous on a conversation with his ex-lover and broke away from Ron's grip.

"What do you want?"

"I think the question is what YOU want?" Ron countered somewhat bemused. Why was everything against him today?

"I don't know what you're talking about. And now excuse me, I'm not really keen on spending more time with pathetic wizards and a spawn of vampire."

But Ron didn't let himself get misled by Draco's words. He just knew too well from experience that this was only a typical response from the Slytherin when he felt pressed or didn't know how to deal with his emotions.

"You know as well as me that's not the truth. So, just spit it out! Why all this fuss? And why are you here?"

"Not your business why I'm here," Draco hissed. "And this encounter is a mere accident. But as I already said, I won't disturb you anymore." With these words he turned again and walked towards the exit.

Ron was too puzzled for a few seconds to react directly, giving Draco the advantage he needed to get out of reach. But he didn't want to give up that fast and felt the rage beginning to build up inside of him. He was furious about the dishonesty of the Slytherin and his inability to just stand by anything for once. But despite all this, he just couldn't let him get away. He had thought of him so many times during the past few weeks that he couldn't and didn't want to waste this opportunity.

When he got to the exit, Ron just about spotted the blond man disappear though the door and went after him with quick strides. But when he stepped outside into the clear and cold night air he couldn't see him anymore. Only darkness encircled him, the light from a street lamp flickering sporadically but the light was far from enough to illuminate the surroundings.

A deep-drawn sigh escaped his lips and cursing inwardly, Ron went to the next street corner. Maybe he could still find him. After all, he hadn't been so far behind him. _'There's no way he's returning into my life just like that only to run off again just as fast without...'_

But Ron didn't get the chance to finish his thought, because when he had reached the corner a hand darted out and pulled him into the small alley. He got pressed against the next wall with full force and Ron's first thought was that the Death Eaters had ambushed him. The alley was pitch black, the only lamp in the corner probably broken for a long time and Ron might as well have worn a blindfold; the effect would've been the same.

Slowly he felt panic rise. He never should've been so careless, going out on the streets without company. After a day like today when there still could be Death Eaters around. But then he heard a familiar whisper near his ear.

"Why are you following me, Weasley?"

He could stop a sigh of relief escaping his lips on realising that it wasn't a Death Eater but Draco, but at the same time the oppressive feeling in his chest got stronger and more questions formed inside his mind. _'What if Draco...? No, he wouldn't do that. Not after what we had... Would he?'_

"I asked you something! Or have you lost your ability to form sentences?" Draco's voice sounded a tad taunting, which didn't help Ron to lose his confusion. He had to swallow hard before he was able to speak a single word.

"What... what do you want here?" was the only thing Ron could grind out with his shaking voice.

"I told you already that it's not your business. So why do you still care?"

Draco's stubbornness was beginning to annoy him. Who did he think he was? And somehow, Ron found the strength of his voice again, encouraged by his still not completely subsided rage over the Slytherin's obstinacy.

"Don't play one of your games with me. You were at the stadium today, am I right? Are you and your father behind this attack?" Ron noticed how the hold on his collar tightened, but slowly he got his courage back and decided to keep on talking insistently to his opponent. "What was your order? To kill me? Was this the reason why you turned up here tonight?"

A disdainful snort was the only thing Ron got for an answer before Draco let up on him again.

"You have no idea..." Ron thought he could hear a hint of melancholy in his voice, but he wasn't really sure.

"Then please explain it to me. How am I supposed to think anything else? It was always..."

Ron's sentence got interrupted abruptly when Draco pressed himself against him again all of a sudden. And then his lips were on his own, at first wild and demanding, then tender and almost shy and everything around Ron started to become blurred. Long forgotten emotions welled up again and it was as if time had stood still. Deep down inside Ron knew that it was probably not a very smart idea but at that moment in time he wouldn't have given a damn if this kiss lasted forever.


End file.
